


In the Lethe Series 2

by teaandchess



Series: In the Lethe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Battle, Destruction, Epic, F/M, Gen, Humor, Megstiel - Freeform, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 373,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over three years has passed since the events of In the Lethe, since Castiel made his choice. As the wars of Heaven & Hell continue to pull apart the humans caught between, the consequences of the past years, of past deeds, begins to slowly make it clear that not all choices are for the best. Old enemies begin to stalk the Winchesters and Castiel learns that the spell that he placed on Meg has begun to crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nameless (When Angels Return)

**Author's Note:**

> Told in episodic style, each chapter is based as a short story within itself. While In the Lethe Series 1 ran parallel to post 8x17 Season 8, Series 2 was written during the start of season nine but stems off three years after the finale of season 8

_She was dying._

_It came to her_ _slowly._ _A dangerous and painful thought that had started to nibble away at her, but she knew it for what it was. Truth. This had gone on too long for there to be any other choice. Now she just wondered it when it would ever come. How it would come. If she would feel the knife or if death would arrive slowly if they forgot her here, in this tiny cell._

_There might be no escape, but she knew that there was something was different tonight. The air was still arid, stifling and so closed in within the tiny mud room that every breath took too long to inhale, too quick to exhale. That hadn’t changed. Only now she felt the pressure of the tiny room pushing on her, trapping her. Caging her._

_Drowning in heat. She was drowning under the heat and the suffocation._

_Moaning, she let her head sag back to where her arms were tied over her head. Her shoulders had dislocated hours before and the pain of it was a dull throb now. With her breasts exposed and her skin battered ugly shades of purple and green, tiny sharp cuts causing rivulets of blood still to ooze from her, she knew that she was nothing like what she had been. Fine robes gone, thin to the point of starvation, her rings torn from her. Gifts from men she was forced to swallow as punishment for being what they had made her. Thrown to the dogs by the very people who once called her friend. Left to wait. Left to die if they didn’t come back._

_All this because of faith._

_Or because of her lack of faith._

_Why worship at something she couldn’t see? Couldn’t touch? Why worship a being who would watch her rape and torture at the hands of his holiest of men, who could do so much and yet did nothing according to his worships? No faith could absolve the sickening touch of hands on her body or the agony of long hours of the branding._

_No faith was worth that._

_Nearly choking on the chewed bit of her tongue left, she moaned and let her head sag forward. Ropey strands, crusted and darkened by the blood, hung before her bloodied eyes. Obscured the floor and the leather used to bind her feet though they could barely reach the floor anyway. Even the dark skin of her feet were stained by blood._

_She was so tired…_

_A soft humming sound, like the breeze after a sandstorm, woke her again and struggle to open her eyes further. Bare feet, remarkably clean on the dirt floor, could just be seen through her matted hair and she lifted her chin shakily. Just a little, just enough that the strain in her neck caused her vision to blur. The ropes cut into her hands when she tried to pull herself up to look._

_“Beautiful. Only one other could truly appreciate the sheer artistry of what has been done to you.” The voice was male, low and so different than any other she had heard. He spoke her language but the accent was heavier. She struggled to focus, to truly see, and a pale man with short cropped hair the colour of fire, grinned back at her. Nothing of it made sense, from his thick leather armour to the centurion helmet tucked under his arm. Kentarch… she’d only met one or two before._

_“Just lovely. I was told you were here but I didn’t expect to see you in such a state.” He reached out and touched a gaping wound in her arm that still wept pus and blood. Unable to find the strength scream, she simply moaned and let her head fall forward. He sat before her on the tiny stool and popped his soaked fingers in his mouth, tasting the fluid. He eyed her like he might a bug he was going to squash before grinning at her. “You’re nothing but a child. Really. Very young.”_

_“Who…” Her head lolled as she eyed him. Too weak to fight, too weak to question. He looked almost like the man who had betrayed her. His blue eyes flickered to a sudden, sickening yellow.  The sight caused a scream to finally rise in her throat and she opened her mouth. His hand, cold and wet, slapped over her and pinched the chapped lips together._

_“Shh, beautiful girl. I’m the monster your kind calls upon when sins of the past, when what you are, catches up with you. When you need a chance to break free. Normally another would take my place when your life is at such a crossroads but you…” He stroked her mouth with his thumb. “You might be worth far more attention. Such sweet tragedy in those strange eyes of yours. I have always longed for a second in command worthy of my teaching.”_

_What poetry was in his words was lost on her as those yellow eyes swirled with impossible light. His hands dug into her face as he cupped her thin cheeks and pressed a little, until her jaw bone fractured a little and she could only moan in pain._

_“You…” He stroked her ropey hair and leaned forward, still whispering seductive, intelligent words. “I can give you a bargain you will never expect. The same another would offer you but I found you first. My price is perhaps… a little different.”_

_Her eyelids drooped low as he ran his hands over her head like a comforting father. Or a man about to slice the throat of a dying animal to give it mercy._

_“Vengeance. Wouldn’t it taste sweet? Revenge on the men that would kill you for not falling in line with them. Ten summers of freedom to do what you will to them and become what you could have been.” His hands stroked her face. “Then, when ten summers pass…”_

_His head ducked and his mouth ghosted over hers. “You are mine. My pupil if you pass through the Pit intact. Mine and you will love me. You will obey me. There is so much to do before He returns to us.”_

_“Why?” she managed, the coolness of his hands in contrast to the heat of the room causing a heady sensation to pool in her body._

_“Because of what I see in you. No one else could even imagine it.” His mouth was close. “Do we have a bargain?”_

_Her mind clung to what it knew. She had fallen into this trap because of her lack of faith, because of love._

_She wanted their deaths._

_When she nodded, he laughed and those yellow eyes swam within her vision._

_“You have to say it.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Good girl.” He crushed his mouth against hers and she tasted sulphur and blood in his mouth. As he made the simple almost perfunctory kiss more furious, she whimpered and succumbed to the overwhelming sensation of darkness invading her every pore. Everything became clear. She knew what she had to do._

_In that moment, she tasted faith_.

~~

There was fire and ash when Hell went to war. There was light and wind that could evaporate darkness when Heaven came to the Pit to steal their chosen back. Wars there lasted lifetimes though to Earth it would only be days.

But when Purgatory invaded, the smell was of earth and blood, the darkness met by a strangeness that had never come to Hell before.

Even the rulers of Hell had been unprepared for them. The angels were expected. Once Grace was regained, their first move was to reclaim the souls that Hell had managed to steal; the battles had been bloody and brilliant. Earth had stood still as for a moment it had seemed like demons and angels would destroy each other completely. But as always, a deal was struck in exchange for souls. A fragile truce based on lies and deception. Neither side would admit to the losses they suffered.

It was why when Hell found itself threatened by something so simple as monsters that it was a surprise.

Finding a backdoor to Hell through Purgatory had been a surprise. Though, as Crowley pointed out from topside where he ruled the Crossroads and waited for the perfect moment, maybe things like that should have been expected. 

After all, the Winchesters had been the cause of that. 

When weren’t they at the heart of those problems?

~~

“Look, Sam, I’m telling you that something fishy is going on up here,” Dean snapped into his cellphone as he paid at the counter. The cashier eyed him suspiciously, like everyone else in town had, and he grinned back at him when the man stared too long. Just as quickly the cashier looked away, flustered that he had been caught.

“Literal fish, considering people are being dragged into the lake and eaten?” Sam’s sarcastic voice was garbled over the airwave. 

“I’m going to ignore that.”

“I thought I was funny.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing we _don’t_ share, Sammy. I’m the funny one.” Dean grabbed the box of pie and his beer and headed out the door. It jingled loudly as it shut behind him and he passed two small women, giving them a grin and wink. No use in being unfriendly and getting noticed anymore than he and Sam had been. But the one woman turned her head towards him abruptly and stared back at him. Startled by intensity of her look, he could only stare back as she bared her teeth in a strangely animalistic warning. Then it was gone and the snarl was replaced by a sunny smile that suited her young face.

For a second, Dean was sure he was seeing things. It had been a long drive up here, a spur of the moment trip based just off information from Garth that something was going on. The night they had found a place to stay, there had been three deaths out at the lake. A woman and her children had been dragged into the water and drowned, with her throat torn out and only soaked toddlers’ clothing left behind. No witnesses, just the tracks of something large and finned in the trails close to the water.

Chalking his anxiety up to hunger and exhaustion, he shrugged and continued on to the Impala. Sam was still rattling away in his ear about why this made even less sense than when they had arrived. Dean rolled his eyes and let him continue on, knowing if he interrupted Sam would just start all over again. Just to irritate him if he knew his little brother.

“We’re in Southwest Virginia. The whole state hasn’t had a mass amount of action lately and now, boom, suddenly fish people eating them? That doesn’t sound a little strange to you?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Dean juggled the boxes around, trying to find his keys. “Monster activity has been skyrocketing lately. Which is kind of messed up considering that you’d think they would be lying low.”

“With the demons retreating back to Hell, and the Angels getting their Grace back, yeah.” Sam was rustling some papers around. “I can’t find anything in the library though, Dean. No history of people dying in the lake. Nothing. It’s like this sort of stuff doesn’t even exist to this place. This town has no history of monsters. Barely anything for demonic occult either.”

“There’s got to be something. Do fish people even migrate? Hell, do we even know much about fish monsters from the Black Lagoon?” His joke fell flat as Sam continued to try to explain why this was impossible. Unwilling to set the boxes on the damp gravel down, Dean felt the beer case slipping out of his hand. “Shit shit shit!”

Before it could fall to the ground, another hand appeared and snatched it before the bottles could break. He froze, staring at the familiar tan sleeve and looked up.

Castiel eyed him patiently. “You could simply have put it all down.”

He took in a deep breath. “Cas.”

Sam stopped mid-rant. “Is that Cas?” 

“Yep. Captain Heaven in the flesh.” Dean couldn’t help but tease the angel over his ranking considering the angels had resumed the Garrison. Castiel said nothing, just held the beer and waited patiently for Dean to finish. “Maybe he’s here to help. I’ll call you back.”

As he hung up on Sam, Castiel squinted a little at him. “I wasn’t here to help you. I need you to help me.”

"No, I need your help.

"I asked you first." He sounded annoyed enough that Dean frowned back and took the beer case out of his hands.

"What are you, five years old?"

"I think that I’ve told you, considering the space and scope of time, that calculating my age is…"

“Spare me the Castiel’s intro to math lessons. Had enough of those in the past couple of years.” Dean sighed, giving up. He could recognize that determined look on the angel’s face. “Well, you know. You’re family, so we share the help around. Let’s hear it. What’s up?”

“The angels have been hearing things.”

“That’s an accomplishment.” Dean opened the trunk and set the boxes in. “I’ve been praying to you for weeks now, since you guys went to war. Sam and I… and I’ve heard nothing from you.”

“I had more things, bigger things, to worry about, Dean.” The angel looked away, watching the shop instead of the hunter. “Things that I can’t ignore.”

Dean ground his teeth. Since regaining his Grace, since his time spent as a human, much of the naivety Castiel had managed to hold onto before had been shed. In more ways, he reminded Dean of when they first met. Cold. A soldier in the purest sense.

Though Dean knew, like only those closest to the angel might, the chinks in that armour he had. There were moments when Castiel was unguarded but what had happened over the past years, from the Metatron’s betrayal to his humanity, had embittered him more than Dean had expected. Had liked. He’d been different than when he had started falling before. Before he had been fighting his fate. Now he simply accepted whatever he was given without question.

Nothing like the Castiel that had learned about freedom. 

“Hell has been quiet ,” the angel said after a moment’s silence.

"Thought that was a good thing."

"I don’t mean wars or schemes. I mean the Gates and the souls that go through them." He drew an imaginary rectangle as if to demonstrate. "The Reapers have been taking no souls there. The ones that slip through… it is like a trickle. They’ve just… stayed still. We’ve gone through several thousands to see if they could come to Heaven, or even be reborn immediately if we can find a way. We do not interfere like that but we can’t leave them. It isn’t what God would want and I can’t find Death to get any sort of explanation.”

“So they can’t get to their punishment. And this is bad because…” Dean was only half-listening. Hell, to his memory, was not really a place he wished on anyone. So someone had closed the Gates a bit themselves, so what?

“Then all of those souls have nowhere to go. They rot in the ground for eternity, which is a bad idea.” Castiel leaned against the Impala comfortably. “There is no other place for them to go besides Heaven or Earth. I highly doubt you want more ghosts on your hands. I’m not even sure what happens to demons when they die anymore.”

“Never thought angels would miss Hell’s presence,” Dean said. 

He got a shrug for an answer. “Everything has a balance.”

“Guess this is where Lethe would have come in handy, huh?” When he said that, he watched Castiel’s face carefully. But the angel was looking at the cars across from him as if he’d never seen them before.

“If I summon Crowley or Abaddon, they will not come and they likely have wards against angels. But I was thinking that perhaps you…” Slowly, his blue eyes dragged away from the cars to Dean’s face.

“No freaking way. Come on, Cas. You saw what those demons pulled on me and Sam. Enemy of my enemy is my friend is crap when those bastards are involved. Only worked for us once anyway.” Explosively, Dean slammed the trunk shut. “You are asking me to risk our necks because you guys had that big scrap a few weeks back and you don’t want to get pally with them right now. I get it. But they won’t answer our summons anyway.”

“Crowley will. You remember? He is hardly Abaddon’s friend and he’s always ready for a deal.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Something about this that makes me believe we need to find out what is happening in Hell if they are closing pathways. Even for demons, they’ve been far too quiet.”

“Fair enough but what’s to keep Crowley from ripping our throats out? He’s not exactly president of our fan club.”

“I will be there if there is trouble.” He ignored how annoyed Dean looked. “I just need you both to summon him for me.”

“That’ll end well. Putting you and Crowley in the same room tends to end in someone getting’ bloody. Fine. Just… fine. ” Dean rested his arms on the car hood and stared at Castiel thoughtfully. “How is Heaven, anyway?”

“Angels never thought they would owe a debt to human souls but I think they are getting over that embarrassment now.” He shrugged. “No signs of Metatron or the others. Whatever they were up to isn’t likely to ever be known. Michael is somewhere in this world but he still has no interest in any of the angels. He wanders. I wonder if he is one of the few that won’t recover from losing his grace, from the madness he came back with. What I did to him, what… she did to him, it changed him.”

“Or maybe that whole thing had nothing to do with Michael’s plans and getting kicked out of Heaven just happened anyway. I know you guys might be willing to hunt down good old Marv,” Dean said while watching Castiel closely. The angel sighed and turned around.

“No, we’re not.” When he saw Dean looking to say something he held up a hand. “As painful as it was, that punishment….”

“Gee, thanks. Glad the human experience was a bad taste in your mouth.”

“It was for the best for many of them,” Castiel snapped. “They learned more about humanity in that time than they have in millennium. Some miss it even. I hope it makes better angels out of them because many realized how to make the best of our worlds.  How we could try to find happiness.”

Dean nodded and scratched at the back of his hand without looking up again. “And you, Cas? Were you happy?”

“I was content.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “That’s not the same thing and no, you weren’t. You gave up, then you chose to fight again. But not once were you as happy as you claim. I could tell.”

“I said content. I never said happy.”

The angel turned to leave and Dean cleared his throat.

“You did what you had to do, Castiel. For the angels… and for them.”

He saw Castiel’s fingers tighten into a fist but before he could look at his face, the angel was gone in a flutter of air and cloth. Dean shook his head and carefully looked around at the store. The two women were sitting on a picnic table close to the other cars, staring at him. One grinned and he blinked, thinking he’d seen fangs and black eyes.

But then it was gone and he knew he could have hallucinated that.

~~

Castiel didn’t go far from where he had left Dean in town. Though part of him knew he should return immediately to Heaven or even to where he had last seen Crowley, he lingered in the park close by. Standing in the forested shoreline of the lake, he took a rare moment to himself. He never had those lately. Rebuilding the Garrisons, counselling the angels who had not wanted to return, who had been forced to return or risk death, the war against Hell… all of that had taken so much time. Now the souls trying to enter Hell but turned away were consuming his attention. Without a war, without a battle, the angels were growing restless. Without Naomi, or any other angel who had known in advance, he was having to contend with new power struggles in Heaven itself.

The strange seraph who claimed to be Michael was no help either. Or the remnants of the greater angels who refused to come home. But he had. He had too much at risk if everything started to spiral out of control. 

 _He needed rest_.

That feeling was all too familiar. He’d never thought to consider time moving too fast or too slow; none of it had ever mattered before. Now it did. Castiel closed his eyes and tried to force himself to relax.

When he put his hands into his coat pockets, his fingers brushed against the worn smooth surface of a small leather bound book. It had been Sam’s idea in the beginning, a way of distracting him, and something Castiel had become accustomed to as he watched Sam chronicle everything he and Dean did. It was easy to imitate him but slowly he had made it his own. He’d carried the journal for three years, adding pages, removing them, scratching things out and ripping things up. 

At first his journalling was by the day, then the week, and in the past year just every month. Things he’d found, learned, experienced… things he had missed. The more precious of those pages he kept, the rest were thrown away. Every page was dated in reverse until the past nine months were in the negative and scratched out. The journal confused Dean and Sam, baffled the angels, but to Castiel the pages made perfect sense.

_Three years, nine months._

He’d expected something monumental to happen the anniversary of the third year. He had waited for something, anything, to give him a sign that it was over. That he could believe that he would be allowed something he’d never thought to want before. A flicker of a spell cracking, a feeling of release, or even the slightest warning that something was going to change. Instead, a war in Hell and the angels returning to Heaven had pulled him into battle. After that, there’d been no signs. 

Nothing.

Just sameness. The same loneliness, the same ache he’d felt both as an angel and as a human. It had dulled over time, scarred over and slowly became bearable. But then, at that three year mark, some absurd hope had made it sharp again, so sharp he had spent every day waiting until he realized nothing was going to change. Until he tried to bury it with his other worries and troubles. 

But it was there, always ready to sink into him when he least expected it.

Nothing had changed, from then to now. 

Glancing at a wrinkled page, he scratched out an obscure note and wrote the date and the number of days down. It was a force of habit now. Unlike his addiction to alcohol and painkillers for a brief span of time, or his odd cravings for sugar, he’d never overcome it. 

Castiel flipped back through the book as he took a seat on the water’s edge and lowered his head to read what he’d written that day that three years had passed. Using his fingers, he traced the cursive writing  of the only three words on the page. One a false name, the other two true names.

Acting cold and indifferent hadn’t distracted him from it at all. Time as a human hadn’t nor regaining his Grace. Nearly four years hadn’t erased it.

He missed them both.

Thousands of angels were his family. Two humans were his brothers, his best friends.

He was still one of the loneliest creatures on Earth.

~~

_The bar of the rack pressed into the muscles around her spine. Or what was left of them. Each slow dig of the sharp wheel behind her bit deeper and deeper into her, until she could feel it just brushing bone. She knew she was missing parts of herself. Here, in this dark place, there was a sensation of being out of body. Not that she really had one now._

_What the knives and the flames tortured was her soul._

_Twisting it and perfecting it, as he liked to say to her when she stopped paying attention._

_It was easy to learn to disassociate herself from the pain. To push it down and let her desire for her own hand at the knife let her survive._

_A hand slapped her hard on the face when she started to close her eyes. White eyes flicked over her face. “Come on, girl. Pay attention. I don’t have all century for you to learn the ropes.”_

_Something wrapped around her throat immediately. “Ah, speak of the devil.”_

_She choked as the pressure increased and the hand she had free raised, broken fingers and all, to try to unwrap the rope._

_“You made the deal knowing this was how it could be, little girl.” He leaned in close and she smelled rotting on his breath. As always. She wasn’t sure what he was. She only ever saw white eyes glowing in the darkness. He knew that she felt more comfortable in the dark and he liked to use that against her. But he only made her scream on certain occasions._

_“I’m here to break you,” he sang out. “And then to put you back together like I do.”_

_Her skin crawled at the underlying threat of that. If he’d left her tongue in today, she could have answered him with what insults she could think of. But all she could do was let her eyes speak volumes at him. He grinned at the look._

_“Yes, yes, girl. I know.” Stroking her face, he clucked his tongue. “It is midweek and you know what that means I hope.”_

_It was impossible to hide the gleam in her eyes._

_He smirked as they flickered black, just a little. “Yes, my dear. Your turn to play for today.”_

_But before she could feel much relief, he raised his favourite knife and tapped it against her cheek._

_“But first, I just want a taste. You are one of my favourites, you know. A shining star in my students.”_

_Even without her tongue, her screams took on a piercing, musical tone that made her Teacher smile as he continued to tell her all the best sweet spots to hit. Always a lesson in his tortures. Always something new to learn. A new way to torture a victim to make the succumb._

_She had been down here for what felt like eternity and every day, he taught her a new way to scream._

_~~_

“How’d he look?” Sam asked as he finished the chalk lines on the ceiling of the motel room. He stepped down off the chair and dusted his hands on his jeans.

“Looked like just old Castiel.” Dean shrugged as he finished mixing. “Human Cas was a mess but at least he was a bit more open with what he felt. Angel Cas?” He made a face and shook his head. “He tries to act as if he’s fine and that he’s back to being . But we both know something is wrong.”

“Yeah. He’s not exactly had it easy in the past few years.”

His brother shrugged again. “Neither have we, remember? Shared souls, deals gone wrong, Angels to get back into Heaven and demons to try to keep one step ahead of?” He gave his reflection in the window a look. “Really it is just the same thing year after year. We’re just older from it.”

“Yeah.” Sam stood behind him and made a show of looking at the top of Dean’s head. He twisted uncomfortably to look up at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Check you for any bald patches or grey hairs.”

“Not all of us can get salon quality hair on discount budgets like you, Sammy.” He swiped his hand through his shorter hair. “I don’t have grey hairs or bald spots.” Dean’s fingers probed. “Do I?”

“Whatever you say, old man.” Sam shrugged and grinned again.

“Shut up.” He was shoved away and Dean muttered about him being a jerk.  Chuckling, Sam quickly grabbed Ruby’s knife while his brother held out his hand. “Here goes nothing.”

They cut his thumb, and he squeezed blood from the wound as he called for Crowley in Latin. When he tossed the lit match down, the flame hissed and snapped but there was no sign of anything else. Stillness and not a hint of a demon about to burst in, let alone a King of the Crossroads.

“Cas,” Dean muttered as he set the switchblade down. “I hope you’re paying attention because I doubt he’ll be thrilled when he gets here.”

“You’re bloody right I’m not.” Crowley’s voice was loud and grating in the small room and they both spun to see him coming in out of the bathroom. He looked like his body was smoking still and he dusted off his silk jacket furiously. “I just had this cleaned. What the hell is the big idea?”

“Well, uh.” Sam backed off as the demon stalked toward them. Small as his meatsuit was, they made sure to put some distance between them. Everything about the furious look on his face screamed that he was ready to rip them apart.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t rip your spines out and use them to play fetch with my dogs.” 

“Come on, Crowley,” Dean said playfully as he grinned. “Not happy to see us?”

“I was busy. I do have things to take care of, a partner in Hell to make think I am on her side so she doesn’t have her own army attack me, and a bottle of the best Scotch with my name on it that I feel I’ve earned. You two are hardly what I need in my life. The last time we dealt with each other, there was betrayal galore and you two insipid bastards caused the angels to go to war against Hell and for what? A few measly souls you felt bad for?”

Dean rolled his eyes at the rant.

“So if we aren’t going to have a chit chat, let’s get on with the spine ripping.” Crowley took two strides forward, enjoying the way both Winchesters backed off from him. Years had passed but he was sure they’d been expecting him to act meeker after everything that had been taken from him. After…

He was yanked to a stop by the trap limiting him. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

“Bastards.”

“All these years and you still fall for it, eh? Still can’t get out of that trap.” Dean grinned. “So much for a big tough demon.”

“Well, not a big one,” Sam interrupted.

“Oh, short jokes from the Moose. Very classy.” Crowley sighed and did a slow turn around the circle. He looked disgusted by the modest motel room. “So what brings the complimentary reach around? Wanting to add a third to your dynamic duo again? I should tell you, boys.” He turned and his eyes turned red for a flash. “I may be up for that.”

Both men didn’t bother to hide their revulsion but it was the sudden flutter of wings that kept them from having to answer.

“I asked them to,” Castiel said, voice gruff but soft from the doorway.

The demon backed off a step but recovered, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms over his chest to try to seem bored. But his dark eyes stayed fixed on the angel and when Sam looked closer, he saw his jaw actually ticking. Castiel still frightened him. 

“Cassie. The reach around just got so much kinkier. I know you were into demons in the past but I’m not sure I’m your type.” He grinned, baring his teeth viciously. “After all, I’m a salesman, not a whore.”

The angel said nothing to the barb and his silence agitated Crowley enough that he stopped grinning.

“Like I told the boys, I have things to do. Why the summons?”

Castiel cut past the snarkiness Dean would have used on Crowley to get to what he wanted. “Hell isn’t taking in souls. It’s resisting them. Why?”

“That’s it? You’re concerning yourselves with the politics of the Pit? Sweet Hell, you must be hard up for some meaning to your otherwise meaningless existence.” He closed his eyes and then shrugged, as if deciding it wasn’t worth hiding. “Bullocks, not like you’ll let me leave if I don’t tell you. What the hell? Not like it actually matters.”

Both hunters gave him an annoyed look at his rambling. “Any time today, Crowley,” Dean prompted.

"If you must know, there’s been a major security problem." Crowley’s eyes snapped to Sam. “Caused by the big moose.”

“Me? I’ve not been in Hell for years.” The younger Winchester took a seat on the low dresser and met Dean’s concerned look. “Not since…”

“Oh yes, since saving the gorgeous Bobby Singer, I know. But you forgot to do something, didn’t you? You left something in plain sight.”

Both Castiel and Dean glanced at him but Sam shrugged. “You got me. I didn’t take anything with me really.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “It is what you did, you moron. You found that little shortcut through Purgatory. Which, kudos for you. Centuries none of us but maybe one or two would know about that. Yet you got lucky. Isn’t that just peachy?”

Sam clued in immediately. “The door from Purgatory to Hell.”

“Bingo, Moose. Only took you long enough to catch on.”

“Wait, so Hell won’t take souls because of Purgatory?” He gave the demon a confused look. “Like a big leak or something?”

“Something like that. Except the leak is monsters, into Hell. Monsters happy to invade and cause some problems for my kind. Hard to do good business when dead monsters start chowing down on the human souls I need on my side.”

“I would have thought they’d work with you,” Dean cut in. Crowley made a face.

“We may have something they take offense to. The Alphas at the least.”

Castiel looked at both men and then at Crowley. “Eve. They have Eve’s body.”

“Their beloved mother is still in residence there, yes. All corpse-like and twitchy. Very twitchy.” Crowley grinned at their open confusion and his eyes fixed on Castiel. “You remember our working together, I’m sure. What it was like when I was experimenting on her.”

Both Dean and Castiel flinched but the angel didn’t answer.

“Part of the reason why my own men are sealing off parts of Hell.  They find her body, I don’t doubt they could do some damage with what she has cooking in there.”

The cryptic phrasing made Castiel stare harder at him, trying to see what he could mean. But he was already taunting the Winchesters again and ignoring him.

“Sealing off the souls from going to the Pit makes no sense. Didn’t think Hell could.”

“There are certain procedures, Dean. Bargains to strike with Death. He was oddly interested.” Crowley was well aware that Castiel was staring at him but to irritate him he was grinning at the humans.

“But why? After last year, I’d think you guys could use all the demons you could get.”

Castiel finally moved to stand just in front of Crowley. “Because demons take time. Torture and time to change. The souls likely would never get to Hell before possibly being taken into Purgatory. That gives the monsters more ammunition. Or worse… a way out of there using the human souls as transport. Dean, you remember.”

Dean glanced at the arm he’d carried Benny through in. Human souls might be a different thing for a monster to try to leap into but nothing was impossible. He knew that too well.

“Aren’t we all smart?” Crowley gave them a sarcastic slow clap. “So that’s the info, boys. Learn something.”

Sam’s hand tightened around the knife but when he looked at Dean his brother shook his head, just a little. Whether they liked it or not, Crowley had been one of the better sources of information in the past few years. Sighing, he got onto the chair and carved into the circle. Crowley made no move to leave and stared at Castiel until the angel looked back at him.

“So, you might say that it is in Heaven’s best interest to help the demons.”

Castiel’s grin was cool. “Why would we do that? You have your own troubles, we have ours.”

“Can you really handle all the wicked souls? Create another Hell? Or better yet, deal with a Hell where monsters gain control of the terrible… terrible things, the terrible Archangel that are caged within it? If they find their dear mother, for example, and find a way of reviving her?”

“Get out of here before I change my mind about letting you live,” Castiel said, knowing Crowley had done that deliberately. To place doubt in the Winchesters and himself. He knew what Heaven was capable of and he let that thought keep him from smiting the demon. “I don’t have time for you, Crowley.

“Oh we’ve got oodles and I would love to catch up.” Ignoring the way they staggered around him, as if ready to pounce and slit his throat, Crowley smirked at Castiel. Focussed every bit of venomous concern into his voice so it came out soft and wheedling. “So, Cassie. Still missing the wife and kid eh? World still feeling incomplete without your little abominations at your side?”

The angel barely moved, but standing so close to him Dean could feel the sudden  tension go through him.

“Get out of here, Crowley,” Sam warned.

“Stow it, Moose. You know, not everyone believes dear Meg was killed. Or that the child died as well when the Lethe closed. We all felt it close so it made sense but…” Crowley gave an almost too casual wave of the hand. “I know I don’t believe it anymore. Something fishy about that story. Now that I have had actually time to consider it, it is too simple. Too easy. My guess is you hid the bitch and the bastard.”

When Castiel didn’t say anything, Dean stepped forward. “We saw it happen.”

“Sure you did. Like you and dear Sam here wouldn’t do anything to help him. Family means so much to you after all.Even had Castiel followed for a while but never saw a thing. But I still think there is more to this story.” Crowley made a show of buffing his nails on his sleeves. “You see, it is more than just rumour. The monsters in Purgatory, as base and animalistic as they are, are a rather religious sort as well; even to them, a nephilim demon would be interesting. And the demons would be stupid not to think that a different type of Cambion would be of use. A weapon against the angels.”

His grin was white and wide. “It does call for more research, doesn’t it?”

Before Castiel could stop him, he was gone. 

~~

It was a tense hour as they cleaned up the motel room and made sure for the hundredth time that they weren’t about to be attacked by Crowley’s personal demons for summoning him. But the motel had been quiet. The whole town was on edge since the monster had showed up and the streets were empty when they left the motel to check supplies.

“I don’t like this,” Castiel whispered as he watched the Winchesters go through the Impala carefully, looking for hexbags or anything a demon could have stashed on them.

“What’s to like?” Dean adjusted the bags in the trunk and turned around to face him. “Crowley knows something. Big deal. I don’t care about Crowley but the other stuff? That’s freak out worthy.”

Castiel acted as if he hadn’t heard him. “If the demons are at war, the angels may have to interfere. And then there is the matter of the monsters.”

“Come to think of it,” Dean said, staring at his brother. “Monsters have been a little more in your face lately.”

“Yeah for a while there they were pretty quiet. Under the radar.”

“Still are but this new one… I mean they don’t often move into new territories, you know?” 

Sam let the trunk fall shut and leaned back on it. “Maybe something is going on. But still, a lot of the time, monsters and demons can work together if they have a common enemy.”

“That’s what concerns me,” Castiel interrupted. Both men looked at Castiel and he stared back unblinkingly. “I know you think we won the War but we were lucky. The demons were not happy to be on the losing side yet again. If the monsters are in Hell through Purgatory, it may be that we have a very large problem on our hands. If they manage to put aside their hatreds long enough to work together, I’m not sure even Heaven could do much to stop them.”

“Especially if Leviathan get involved,” Sam agreed. 

“If we’re lucky, they won’t bother. You said the entry was to the centre. Not close to where we used to see the Leviathan but I don’t like this either way.”

Dean clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Got a point. Monsters and Demons together at once can be a problem. Let’s just hope that the demons close that door soon.”

"I don’t think the demons will work with monsters," Sam said. "Wouldn’t make sense. There’s too much history between them. Almost as bad as angels and demons."

The angel nodded to both of them. “I will go to Heaven and see if anyone has heard of anything. There is still some restructuring going on there.”

“What, angel soldiers getting made into paper pushers? Five days from retirement, that sort of deal?” 

Castiel glared at Dean. “I understood that.”

“I knew I had him watch all those Lethal Weapons for a reason,” Dean said, nudging Sam with his shoulder. They both looked up to see him dusting off his coat sleeves, a sign he was likely to leave. “Cas, it’s not just the monsters that’s bothering you.”

“Of course it is. I don’t want another War. My family are recovering from the last one.” _And I am still not welcome with them often,_ he thought bitterly. So much blame was still there, even after all this time. 

He turned around and Sam cleared his throat. “Cas.”

When he glanced over his shoulder, Sam’s weary eyes were locked on his face. “You know the monsters in Hell might just be a trick. A distraction. I think that that someone could be trying  to find Meg and Nyx.”

Unlike before, this time there was a visible flinch that ran right across his face, as if Sam had struck him. 

Sam continued, ignoring the glare he was getting. “We all know that the demons and angels were interested in them when they thought they were alive. If they suspect we faked their deaths, then they’re in danger.”

“As long as they remain hidden, they will be in no danger.” As if that was final, he stepped backwards away from Sam.

Dean crossed his ankles and leaned back against the shining black Impala. “Cas, buddy… it’s been over three years. I thought Death told you three years. They can’t stay hidden forever. Maybe it’s time we do something more.”

“Yes, well, he likely lied to me. It seems that happens frequently,” Castiel answered bitterly. “They are safe. We made them safe. That is all I can want.”

Dean put his hands in the air and walked off a few steps. Knowing he was upset, Sam looked around at Castiel who was watching his friend thoughtfully.

“Cas.” He fidgeted when that icy gaze fixed on him. “I get wanting to keep them safe. I get it. But maybe it’s time to go back. I think you might need them.”

“Meg was forced to forget what she is and who I am. Nyx was too young to remember. They don’t need me there and it would only complicate things. What I need is irrelevant,” Castiel snapped. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because I worry that you’re going to become the angel we first met. Except you might end up being worse off for it.”

The look he was shot let Sam know he had overstepped his bounds with him. Their friendship had become shaky lately as secrets and exhaustion had nearly driven them all apart. Even now, back to where they’d nearly begun, things had not been the same between the three. 

“I just wish you could rethink this,” Sam whispered and Castiel looked away.

“I need to go. Tell Dean I will be in touch.”

Sam shook his head and closed his eyes as the angel disappeared in a whirl of wind. His heart ached, literally, and shakily he rubbed at his chest. When he opened them again, Dean was waiting for him patiently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Sam. We both know that doesn’t work anymore.” Dean tapped his head. “I can read you easy.”

Sam grinned to cover up his discomfort. It had been a phantom pain and it was easy to ignore. “Like when you say you’re going for a beer and it turned out you were singing at the karaoke bar?”

“One time, and you won’t let me forget that.”

“Was worth it for when you sang “Don’t Stop Believing” and had the bar treating you like a rock star.”

“Anyway!” Dean stopped him curtly. “What are we gonna do?”

“Hunt this monster?” Sam offered and Dean stared at him. Even though neither of them liked leaving mid-way through a case, they both had the feeling that if they didn’t something was about to go wrong. Garth would be annoyed but he’d learned not to ask questions when the Winchesters said there were even bigger problems at hand. There would be another pair of hunters up here in a day if they called.  

“You want to go see them, don’t you?”

Dean nodded. “I don’t trust Crowley not to figure something out. If he thinks they’re alive, then it could be others do as well. Monsters or demons. Not to mention the angels. Not all of them were thrilled with what Castiel did to send them back to Heaven. If they’re desperate enough, then we’ve got a big big problem.”

“Well, we have our hexbags and some warding spells in my journal I can use. They’re a few days out. What if Cas catches on?” Sam waved his hand at the air. “He has a habit of showing up still.”

“I think he’s avoiding this. Took him a long time to get over it.”

“Do you really think he did, Dean? Would you if you lost someone you loved? Like it or not, we both know what he felt for Meg. Or could you get over losing a child?”

Dean looked uncomfortable. “No. You got a point. What do you want to do?”

“Check in on them. We haven’t been there in months, maybe they won’t even notice us.”

His brother actually seemed relieved. “I’ll go pay the bill. You get the bags together.”

Sam nodded and watched Dean walk off to the motel office. When he was out of sight, he slumped down and coughed harshly. A spittle of blood stained his lips, just enough that he when he wiped it away his fingertips were red. His hands shook as he stared at it and then up at the Impala. Three years of health, even with that strange but incredible connection with Dean, and now… now he felt tired. Not sick, not yet anyway. It was a weird feeling though; as if he wasn’t feeling all the pain he could be feeling.

Not wanting to worry his brother, he wiped at his mouth and quickly slipped into the car. As he watched Dean come back from the office, he began to rummage through the glove compartment to find the hexbags and grabbed the map to Arkansas.

“Going to be a hell of a long drive,” he muttered as he unfolded the map and eyed the familiar route. 

~~

_The bar was dark and poorly lit, the air smoky with a hint of whiskey and beer in its odour. A jazz musician was singing low and sultry to the crowd as women in sequins and men in fine suits swayed to the band. Something out of an old movie, the way they sedately moved and laughed as if actually happy._

_Sitting cross legged at the bar, she turned her eyes to the mirror overhead. Saw herself and, though her skin was darker with her hair in a gorgeous crop of black ringlets and her eyes amber brown, she knew it was her. How she knew didn’t make sense; she didn’t look like this._

_But she knew who she was and she was this woman. Or at least, she was inside this body and it belonged to her for now._

_A man in a white suit took a seat next to her and set down a glass of wine. “Did you find him?”_

_She turned and looked at him, her shapeless dress with its lacing and beads shimmering in the light. “Who?”  she asked, bewildered by his arrival._

_“That Man of Letters, the one I told you to find. He needs to be stopped.” At her blank stare, he gripped her arm tight, his craggy face pulled tight in a frown. He shook her hard enough her teeth rattled in her skull. “You are one of my second in commands. You should know to follow orders better or I will release a Knight to take care of this problem myself. It might take a few years but she’ll find him just fine. You are slipping up, daughter.”_

_“A knight?”_

**_What the hell was wrong with this dream?_ **

_“You screwed up last time, letting Crowley take that Campbell boy on a deal. We have limited time and he doesn’t know the plans. Fix this.” The hands twisted her about on her seat and yellow eyes stared down at her. “Or I will forget I call you daughter and give you back to Alastair. Again.”_

_She opened her mouth to scream as those yellow eyes came closer and closer._

_~_

Her head jerked around on the pillow as she immediately snapped out of the nightmare. 

Nightmares. Meg had never liked having them or even those irregular dreams where nothing bad and nothing pleasant ever happened. For what she could remember, she had never had a dead, dreamless sleep, and she slept infrequently anyway. She was used to an insomnia that no pills could fix and the few hours she managed to get wouldn’t help. Everyday she should feel exhausted by it but there was no cure for it.

When her eyes finally opened, instead of a yellow eyed gaze threatening to harm her,  there were two large blue eyes just hovering close by. Familiar blue eyes. Groaning, she rolled to her side a little, saw the red numbers on her tiny clock, and pulled her blanket over her head. 

“Five more minutes.”

A child pounced and she felt two hands dig into the blanket. “Promised!”

“It is one in the morning.” Half-heartedly, Meg tried to fight it but the blanket was pulled down and a cherub face stared seriously down at her. “Nyxie.”

“Promised!”

Meg and the girl stared at each other for a few seconds and finally she took in a deep breath. “Fine. Go get Clarence and we’ll go.”

With a squeal of delight, the little girl took off and disappeared into the hall. Rubbing at her eyes, Meg sat up and shuddered at how cold she felt. Her gaze fell on the bottle of pills on the table.  Medication wasn’t doing her any good still. She knew she might have collapsed into a seizure before that dream. Her tongue was sore from a bite and her head ached, that woozy feeling not leaving her.

She should just go back to bed.

But that would disappoint Nyx and she’d learned not to do that.

Moving quietly through her still dark room, she dressed and found a heavy coat for herself, taking the time to check the locks on her windows. An old habit she didn’t quite understand made her pocket her switchblade as well. She made sure to move softly. All she needed was to wake the other people in the old house and if Nyx got excited then the whole house would be woken up by her chatter. 

Once she had zipped up her boots, she stared at her pale hands and had that odd feeling she had felt for three years now. That they belonged to someone else, that she wasn’t real. That she was meant to be something else. Closing her eyes again, she steadied herself and quickly grabbed her flask from the night-table drawer. 

When she stood up, a tiny body flew over her bed and wrapped around her legs. Clinging tight and refusing to let go even when she tried to walk a few steps. Meg grinned down at the blue eyes flashing up at her, framed by messy brunette waves. _Her father’s eyes,_ she thought and then shook her head. That was stupid. She didn’t know that for fact, just assumed it since her own eyes were so dark.

“Got him, kid?” she asked and Nyx nodded, reaching into her own heavy coat and showing her the stuffed unicorn. Patched up repeatedly because Nyx insisted on taking it everywhere with her and that meant it was dragged, battered, ripped but ultimately well loved, its black beaded eyes stared lifelessly up at her. The sight of those black eye made Meg uncomfortable as they always did.

“Gonna be cold!” Nyx said as Meg pulled a child’s cabby hat over her abundance of dark hair.

“Got that right, baby girl. Must be the rain coming in. Come on.” She swung her up into her arms, listening to her giggles. After pulling her toy up beside them, Nyx rested contentedly against her as Meg left the rear of the house for the yard. Two porch chairs had been dragged out to the middle of the garden and, ignoring Nyx’s nonsensical chatter, Meg took a seat on one of the old chairs. Strung up on the trellis surrounding the patio, the LD lights cast a blue glow over their matching pale skin and let her clearly see Nyx’s excitement. She squirmed on her lap while they both looked up at the starry sky.

“Gonna see one?” Nyx demanded, pointing at the starry sky.

“Maybe.”

Nyx’s fascination with falling stars, and the way the lights would shoot across the darkness, had made this a weekly habit for them since last year. They didn’t always see one but she knew every Thursday they would come out to watch the sky. Meg pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up as well.

“Why do you like the stars so much, Nyxie?” she asked like she did every Thursday.

“Pretty.”

"Yeah, I guess.” Meg shivered as a tiny light flashed across the sky. “You know what the guys in town say? They are angels falling.”

Nyx rolled her blue eyes comically. “Silly. Angels fly.”

“Maybe they lose their wings,” her mother said and Nyx gave a childish gasp. When she looked down the girl’s eyes were so big and shiny that Meg realized she was about to burst into tears. “It’s just a story, Nyx.”

“Don’t like that story.” She rubbed at her face tiredly and hugged Clarence the unicorn tighter.

“Never do,” Meg muttered and she held her close. “What stories do you want to hear?”

But Nyx was ignoring her, eyes only on the stars. Meg watched her fascinated look, the way her mouth went slack as she set about trying to count the stars like she always did, counting in fives over and over again. When a light streaked across the sky, likely a plane though Meg said nothing, she was so excited Meg had had to hold her still. She forgot her own strange nightmare and simply waited patiently until Nyx fell asleep counting the stars when no more of them fell. Even then, she stayed out till nearly dawn, letting her daughter sleep in her arms and wondering like she always did why the darkness didn’t bother her so much as the light.

~~

He had changed his favourite place from Chicago to the East Coast when he decided to make his presence more known. Not much for explanations, it was more out of a need for different scenery than a desire to trade in a fabulous deep dish pizza for ripe seafood. Night time was still his favourite time to be out and he found a particularly nice, classy restaurant in Halifax to try. It served excellent lobster.

His presence, of course, could be why Halifax’s sudden rise in fatalities would have to be explained away by the government as unfortunate and also unexplainable.

Breaking apart a choice section of lobster, Death looked into the beady eyes of the boiled crustacean thoughtfully. A part of him toyed with the idea of bringing it back to life but dismissed that as too cruel. He was a realist, after all, and one of the most powerful beings in this existence. Such things should be beneath his cruelty.

“If you ask me,” he said to the lobster, tapping it with his fork. “You haven’t missed much. Others have to live for years and then be trapped. At least you were raised in a tank and never knew freedom.”

Unlike humans who ate so noisily with their fingers, the entity speared a juicy slice of lobster and popped it into his mouth. 

“Rather like the majority of players in this dreadful game,” he said once he finished chewing. He eyed the dead waitress at his feet and then reached for his glass of wine. “Isn’t that right, Castiel?”

The shadows shifted, as he expected they would, and the angel stepped out into glow of the candlelight. Death took a long sip as he watched the vessel of the angel. Perhaps his time as a human had aged the vessel a little, the look of weariness was less a mask and more of a physical attribute. Death had watched the past three years with the sort of amusement similar to a vulture watching a dying animal slowly give in to the inevitable. Then he had waited, just a little longer because he needed to. Just to see what happened as well.

Judging by Castiel’s expression, it had been worth it.

“It has been a while. How did you find me?”

“I just waited for a town to start experiencing more fatalities than normal,” Castiel answered as he took a seat across from Death. The entity grinned ghoulishly at him and reached over to pour him a glass of wine. He actually took the glass, causing Death to arch his eyebrows.

“I see being human for a time caused you to indulge in some habits.” When the angel made no answer, he continued to eat in silence, pausing now and then to take a drink. That Castiel let him eat in near silence made it clear the angel had learned patience. When he finally looked up, he was being stared at. “So why are you here? A social visit?”

“I waited. I watched and I waited. Now…”

“Ah yes, the soul war in Hell. Quite entertaining. I never thought to see such a thing. But of course you can understand I cannot have my people take the souls there either because it would just be wrong to let the monsters pervert those souls as well. It is bad enough the new kinds of monsters could be created. Quite by accident, of course.” Death dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Castiel whispered, his tone hard with tension. Death let his fork clatter on the plate and he folded his hands under his chin thoughtfully.

“Spit it out then.”

He saw him nervously turn the glass stem between two fingers. “Why did you have me wait three years?”

“Why not? There were reasons. I gave you several good ones.”

“Recently, I have begun to wonder if they were good enough.”

Death tilted his head. “So this is about your demon and your child. I should have known.”

“It has been nearly four years.” Castiel took a deep breath and exhaled it out, calming himself. “Why did you make me wait? What was it worth? Part of me wanted to find them when I became a human. I needed them then.”

“I find so little to amuse me.” Death gave him too casual of a look. “And I made you wait, told you to make a choice because you needed to. Can you imagine, Castiel, if you had been made human and found them again? They would be killed eventually. Or when you first regained your Grace? They may have meant nothing to you then. Or you would have done something foolish. As you always do.”

“That’s not true,” Castiel said and Death smirked, clearly thinking otherwise. Knowing he could have been a pawn made his temper, usually held in check, start to escape his control. “All of this was for fun?”

“Hardly. One day you will realize that there were reasons, ones beyond the need to protect them both. It is necessary for your daughter to believe herself human, for even a short period of time.”

Castiel looked at the black tablecloth. “I don’t understand.”

“How did your perspective change, Castiel, when you realized what it was to be human?” Death questioned and he saw him stiffen up in understanding. “You learn fast.”

Castiel shakily took a long drink of wine before he closed his eyes, rubbing at his scruffy jaw with his other hand. Death watched him curiously, still resembling a vulture with the intense way he stared. There always had been something different about Castiel and even after all these years it was still remarkably clear that that hadn’t changed.

“What would you do if you could bring her back?”

“Anything,” Castiel blurted out and then he stopped himself, his jaw clicking with how fast he closed his mouth. 

“It would be a great risk.”

“To them, I know, and I could not…”

“Not just to them. But it will be riskier to let them live in darkness. Sooner or later, both of them will wake up. Whether you want them to or not.”

“But that’s not the same, not anymore. They won’t be any safer now. If the monsters grow aware of them, if the demons or angels…”

“You can be so obtusely wrong about things, Castiel, it is almost comical.” The angel glared at him furiously and Death shrugged. “Mm hmm, you aren’t totally wrong. Your daughter is quite special. Then again, so is the demon. Perhaps, Castiel, you won’t have the choice anyway.” 

“What do you mean?”

Death smiled wanly “What do you think?”

“Nyx will almost be four, Meg… Meg will have forgotten…”

“You buried the demon, thanks to the coins of Lethe, but it won’t kill the demon nor does it hide what Meg really is. Spells break down, eventually; with enough time and pressure.  True faces never fade. Nothing is final. Walls crack as memories push to the surface. Creation continues on.” He leaned back a little. “Something your Father knows well and something Sheol knows as well.”

The name he had not heard in so long made Castiel stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing you can possibly understand, Castiel. When I said three years, I did not mean I would be helping _you._ Your choices are ultimately your own.” Death’s smile was thin and almost sly. “Free will, as you may recall.”

Before Castiel could react, Death snapped his fingers and sent him back home.

~~

Heaven was a quiet place after the angels returned. Even with having to now juggle souls meant for Hell and not Heaven, the souls that belonged still thought it was a place of near tranquility. It was what it was before the Apocalypse; souls fading in and out of their personal heavens, enjoying their reward for devout or good lives. Only a few remembered what had happened earlier.

So much had changed and yet no soul seemed to be able to care. The angels that guarded and shepherded them remained restless but thankful to be there. After the Lethe, after times spent on Earth or in Hell, Heaven was its Paradise namesake. There they were starting to rebuild their own garrisons. Limited numbers suddenly being bolstered by the returning angels who had stayed on Earth or in Hell to finish what they’d begun.

After Death had sent him back, Castiel sat in the eternal Tuesday morning he enjoyed so much and felt nothing. No warmth from the false sun and no serenity from the calm park. As he plucked at the grass with his fingers and watched the autistic man fly a kite, he tried to feel peace.

But his mind was fixed on what Death had said. 

_What if he had given them up years ago for nothing but a lesson about choice?_

As furious as it made him, he forced himself to think about it carefully. The past three years had been hard, not only on him but on Sam and Dean, on Kevin Tran, on even the few allies they had left. Castiel wasn’t even certain where Kevin was. The Prophet had slowly lost fragments of his old self until he was a shell and he now wandered for ‘answers’. Answers to what Castiel wasn’t even certain. There had been so much death and pain.

Could he have lived with himself if Meg or Nyx had been subjected to that? Meg could handle herself as a demon but Nyx… 

_What if he had lost them?_

Shaking his head, Castiel stood up and straightened his coat. 

“Castiel. I had heard you were back.”

He turned at that soft greeting to face Michael. Or what had been Michael. With only a trace of Grace left, no angel knew if he was really an angel or if he was nothing more than a glorified human. What was worse was that no one knew what to do with him. Michael had been one of the few unaffected by the Fall. One of the few to not care. To not fight.

It wasn’t that he was a pacifist like Castiel had tried to be.

There was something else more cunning, more devious, in Michael than Grace and the one-time Sword of God. Something that unsettled every angel but no one knew why. There were so few of them left that no angel wanted to interrogate him; they all needed each other, they were all family. Castiel never liked being close to him. Since Meg’s faked ‘death’ they had needed no time together. But now he was standing there, looking at him with a sedated grin.

“Why are you here?” Michael asked as he stood across from him. Still wearing Adam Milligan’s face, something Castiel found disturbing.

“I came home.”

“So I see.” Michael turned a slow circle and sighed. “But why? You have been so devoted either to the Winchesters or to keeping Hell in line lately. Or did you have news of Metatron?”

“I chose to let him go,” Castiel snapped. “I’ve not followed him.”

“Mm.” Michael snapped his fingers and a park bench appeared for him to sit on. “There are others on the Earth who have not returned home. The most dangerous being Sandalaphon. Metatron’s twin. Where, oh where, could she be?”

“We have too few of us left to hunt those who don’t want to come home. Some of the angels loved Earth.”

“And you? Do you still love such a place?”

Not wanting to start this again, Castiel shook his head and started to walk away.

“Or is it just the Winchesters tying you there? You should be taking on more duties here, Castiel, as a captain of an army, and you would still be able to spend time with your human pets.  Yet you wander that Earth as if hoping for something more.” Michael grinned when he saw the angel stiffen up. “Or someone.”

It was easier to walk away than to answer him.

Michael watched him disappear down the park path and smiled to himself. It had been a long wait, he thought, his eyes flickering between bright blue and amber yellow so quickly that it seemed like a trick of the light. He grinned. Long waits were worth it for them. 

~~

Heber Springs was a tiny Arkansas town. It saw its large share of tourist activity when things went well but many would barely notice it other months of the year. It was just a spot on the map for people.

It had been perfect at the time. Just enough to keep them from being noticed

After dropping Dean off at the bar to get a drink and chat up the locals for any news, Sam continued on to a small Bed and Breakfast on the outside of town, where he knew he could get a few rooms for the night for cheap. Or for free, if he was lucky and she was in the right mood. He checked the street signs as he went and followed the country roads as best as he could until he came to a place just at the outskirts. The old house was barely a standout but it had worked out for her. Well-tended, comfortable, tiny, and out of the way.

Perfect.

When he pulled in, she was already standing at the door, solemnly staring at him as she usually did.

Linda Tran rarely smiled when she saw the Winchesters anymore. She went by Linda still, though she changed her last name frequently to avoid being found by anyone looking for her. She was a familiar face in the middle of nowhere and there were days where both Winchesters were glad to have her on their side. Still, sometimes it was up in the air if she actually liked them at all.

When Sam got out of the Impala and climbed the steps, her arms were folded over her chest and he wisely only said hello before cringing and waiting for it.

“Where is he now?” she demanded instead of being polite.

“We don’t know. He… he was in Nevada.”

“Doing what?” She refused to move out of the way and he knew he was going to be interrogated until he gave her the answers she wanted. 

“Learning the Word of God was what he told us. Kevin is a prophet, remember?” Sam asked, the long drive and his own exhaustion making him feel edgy. But her lips tightened in to a thin line and he knew immediately that that had been the wrong thing to say. “Look, Linda…”

“He is only a prophet, only a hunter, because of you two! He came back a few months ago and you know what he did when he was here? He slept. For three days without moving. Then when I went to take him food, he was gone. Emptied out my cash box, left a note saying he was looking for answers, and he was gone. When he called, he said that he was cursed. That he had to find the answers to everything.”

Though that was new, Sam stared at her, seeing under the hard mask she wore. Seeing the worry and the fear. She tried so hard to be strong that sometimes she had to fight to hide how afraid she was for her only child. Kevin wasn’t the only one who had changed since he had met the Winchesters. Linda was still strong, still a fighter, but she was tired as well. Tired of hiding.

“He had a rough few years. Having to keep your secret… hell, having to keep everyone’s secrets. I don’t blame him for wanting to be alone.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I just wish he’d remember that I’m here for him.”

Reaching out, Sam squeezed her shoulder for comfort. All at once she lost that sad expression and resumed that stern look he knew. Used on him and Dean, it was almost motherly. “So. You want to stay the night?”

“If you have room.”

“Always do. Thank God I’m doing bookkeeping as well online or I wouldn’t have any money coming into the place. Where’s Dean?” she asked, looking at the Impala.

“In town, looking for some information.”

“Oh?” She walked in ahead of him and he took in the warm feeling of the house happily. He spied a few child’s toys stacked in the front foyer as she continued to talk. “Why are you guys here?”

“Vacation.”

She spun around and thumped him on the chest. “Don’t lie to me, Sam Winchester. Why are you here?”

He blushed a bit under her scrutiny. “We think Crowley’s men are going to start looking for them. There’s been trouble in Heaven and Hell and there’s been enough distraction but…”

“He’s figuring it out.”

“Slowly. We have some time.” Sam closed the door and followed her into the living room. Well decorated and pristine, even here felt homey and welcoming. She did like to make each place her home, so it was no wonder that Dean liked coming here. “I’m not sure how he’d figure it out really but knowing Crowley it’s possible”

He sighed, wondering if he should have done more. “We should have changed their names.”

“Wouldn’t have done you any good,” Linda said. “One thing she remembered was her name and Nyx’s. You can’t take everything away from them.”

“But…”

“Six degrees of Separation, remember?” Linda asked. “Something is going to happen. You and I both know that eventually something is going to break. Some coincidence, some slip of the tongue.”

Sam nodded and sat on the couch as she sat on the old recliner. “How are they?”

“She’s the same as always. Suffering on the inside but she thinks she is hiding it. Did… did you or Dean ever tell Castiel what the spell did to her? The side-effects? ”

“No. He’s never asked. I think it could break him apart to know and he had so much to worry about. Is she better?”

“It is getting worse. Seizures, flashbacks, and she’s taking a lot of sleep medication but nothing works. She’s accepted the insomnia as normal. I keep her away from doctors as best as I can.  She knows something is wrong but without any real memory, she just gives up trying sometimes.” Linda sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. The worry was clear on her face, almost the same worry she’d shown for Kevin.

“You really like her, huh?” Sam asked, a bit baffled. Castiel caring for a demon hadn’t been that absurd to him but that a human woman, who barely knew Meg before, to show any signs of caring seemed very strange.

Linda opened her eyes and stared at him accusingly. “Not that I think you’ll understand, Sam, but she was the only one not interested in using Kevin. Or me. She’s been a good friend and I hate to see her suffering.”

He flinched and looked at his hands. “What about Nyx?”

Linda actually smiled when he looked back up. “She’s growing. She’s happy here. Though sometimes I think she sees a lot more than any of us realize. No signs of powers, no memories, not much about her to say she is any different than a human. She just plays, talks to her imaginary friends, stargazes with Meg sometimes. That’s it. She’s a beautiful little girl. Calls me Auntie a lot.”

“Has she…”

“No.” She cut him off before he could ask if she had dreamt anything. “Nothing she cries about. Sometimes I check on them at night and Meg will be sitting up with her, but I’m not sure if that is because she thinks she has to protect her or because Nyx had a nightmare.” When she noticed him looking around, she gave him an impatient look. “She’s at the babysitter’s today so she won’t be back till late.”

“Babysitter?” Sam frowned. “Why would Meg…”

“Because she’s a single mother who had to get a job in town doing whatever it is she could to earn extra money. And to have a life. A young girl down the way takes her to the park and lets her play if Meg is busy.” Linda glanced at the clock. “Knowing Meg, she’ll be headed to the bar. She’s been earning some money bar-tending. Josh, the owner, likes to cut out early before he works the night-shift.”

“She likes it?”

“No. She hates it. You know Meg. People and her don’t often get along, whether she was demon or acting like a human. But money is money and what else she does on the side to get extra cash is her business.” Linda watched Sam stand up. “Where are you going?”

“Back to town. Dean is there and I get this feeling that something is going to happen.”

“You and Dean are still connected, huh?” She followed him to the front door and leaned against it as he jogged down the steps. “Is the after-burn from that spell giving you that ESP thing again?”

Sam fixed his collar and shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Well, I’ll be in later. If I’m not here, you know where the key is.”

He saluted her jokingly and missed her affectionate chuckle as she disappeared back into the house. Instead of leaving, the minute he sat in the car he rested his head on the steering wheel and sighed. Hearing about Kevin slipping away, about Meg’s own struggles, was to him just a sign that after three years everything that had gone wrong was likely to just get worse.

“How can it get worse?” he asked the rearview reflection of himself as he grabbed his phone. “Right. It can always get worse.”

~~

Smokey bars were always a favourite of his, even in the middle of the afternoon, and being one of the only people there made Dean’s day better. As he went through the newspaper while nursing a beer, he slowly came down from the exhaustion of driving the long hours to get here. He liked this bar and the low music and drizzle of rain outside was comforting. Cheap beer, decent eye-candy when the night was right, and above all, it was quiet. Except for a man standing outside shouting about the End of Days and who had pointed at him and called him a Righteous Man.

Worst reference he’d heard in a while.

The low buzz of his cellphone caught his attention and he checked his text message to see Sam’s warning. Raising his eyebrows, he cast a quick look around and saw no one he recognized. Maybe that was for the best. He just wanted some peace and quiet, even though he knew it couldn’t last.

He tried to ignore how sitting with his back to the door made him feel exposed. He needed to be out of here soon once Sam showed up. It was easier to fly under the radar than get exposed. Then to be recognized right now. It was bad enough the bartender knew him from the infrequent days they spent here to rest on their way back home. The few nights they spent here to be sure Meg wasn’t being exposed and Castiel’s daughter was still safe.

He was mid-sip when he heard an all too familiar flutter beside him that meant only trouble right now. Dean choked on his beer hard enough that his throat burned from it and he had to cough it up before he could breathe again. Wiping at the beer dribbling from his lips, he continued to cough and turned in his seat to see Castiel sitting next to him, a beer already in his hand. As if he’d been there the entire time.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Where the hell did you come from?” Dean demanded and the angel gave the ceiling a pointed look. “Yeah yeah, I get it. Ask a dumb question, get a dumb “Castiel is oblivious” response.”

“I thought you were still in Virginia. Hunting.”

“Case fell flat. Why are you here? How did you even find me?” He tried not to sound defensive and the angel shrugged. “Right. Of course. You would be tapped into the ‘crazy religious guy’ wavelength.”

“Actually. It was the GPS on your phone. Sam taught me that.”

Dean stared at him incredulously before glancing at his phone. Cas using technology. Wonders never ceased.

“Why are you here though?” Castiel asked.

“Needed a holiday?”

“Yes, you do but you would go to the bunker for that. Or at least what is left of it.” No one discussed the fire but the slow rebuilding of the part that had burnt was ongoing when they had time. At least the personal rooms and the libraries were left. The storage cellars and dungeon hadn’t fared so well. “So why Heber Springs?”

Dean looked at his hands. “Because of Crowley I needed to be sure people were safe.”

“People? You’ve had cases here?” Castiel looked around thoughtfully at the mostly dead bar. “I haven’t seen that many people here. What cases have you had recently?

Dean quickly decided that playing dumb would only make this more painful than it had to be. “Meg is here, Cas. This is where we brought her. I was hoping you’d still think we were in Virginia. Not here. I didn’t plan on you coming here.”

He didn’t dare look at the angel’s face but he felt the tension go right through him. Castiel went from relaxed to board-stiff in a heartbeat. Dean saw his hand clench around the neck of his beer bottle so tight he was sure he would shatter the glass. 

“Here. She’s here,” he whispered. Agitated, he began to look around and straightened up a little. He looked as if he expected someone to leap out and grab him.  “I should go.”

“You might as well stay. Have a beer because I’m not sure she’ll be here anyway. Take a breather. Relax.”

Castiel fidgeted and began to peel at the bottle’s label. That he wanted to hit Dean was clear but he kept his hands busy instead. “I could be endangering everything. You likely have! How long have you been coming here? Knowing you could be putting her in danger. What were you thinking”

Dean decided to ignore the way Castiel glared at and accused him.

“Months, years. Every now and then we pass through. Make it look like we’re just going home. I just needed to be sure everything is how it should be.” Shrugging, he took another long sip before giving Castiel a glare to match his. “Someone had to.” 

 He cleared his throat and waited for the bartender to pass before he continued.

“She helps out around the town. Not sure what she does but most of it just revolves around odd jobs around here. James Frampton hired her on a few times, asks her for help on cases when he can’t risk it. He keeps a low profile now, lives in another small town close by.”

“Why Meg?” Castiel demanded.

“She’s good at it. We needed to find her work. Linda can’t do everything herself.” Dean shrugged. “No one knows about her besides me, Sam, Linda and Kevin, Cas. James doesn’t know what she is. She’s been able to handle the work he asks her to take care of. Usually surveillance. I told him to keep her under radar. He doesn’t want me exposing him so he owes me a favour or two.”

He flipped a bottle cap. “She has no social security, no real identity besides what Sam and I made up for her. We did the best we could without leaving her in a ditch. Or would you rather I did that?”

The angry edge in his voice made Castiel sigh.

“I’m not blaming you, Dean. She needed your help. This is… this is a good place for her.” 

Dean glanced over when he heard the familiar rumble of an old car pulling up. Knowing cars like he did, he recognized the running purr of an old Cougar and shook his head.

“You should go now, Cas.”

The angel looked out the front window, confused. As he heard the car, something went over his face once he realized why Dean would want him to leave. He hesitated, ready to disappear if he had to. He’d become used to staying away that it should be easy. But even though he tried to focus, tried to fly off, something grounded him. Though he wanted to leave, he knew what it was.

Himself. In that moment he knew what he had to do when he was faced with that easy decision of staying away or seeing what three years had brought on. .

He needed to stay. He had done penance for whatever sin God had envisioned for him, had stayed away though he had grieved so long for a chance. He had waited so patiently. Absurd as it was, Castiel needed to know that she was still there. Hiding. That what he’d fought to protect hadn’t died. 

Eyeing the old clock on the wall, he came to a decision.  One hour. He could stay just one hour.

“I’ll be fine,” Castiel muttered, dropping his eyes to the bar. Dean eyed him and then took a deep breath as he nodded.

“Your funeral. Here goes.”

The hunter and angel both sighed and turned back to their drinks, sitting in comfortable silence for a moment and not once looking at each other. When the door jangled open, Dean glanced over to see that Castiel was tense again, hands gripped into fists on the bar. His eyes closed as he took long, steadying breaths and when he opened his eyes again he looked ready to fly off. He hadn’t even turned around but every inch of him screamed fear and anticipation. The change in him was so sudden that Dean wondered if the angel was actually ready for this.

Not sure why, he grinned and looked back ahead of himself to the bar mirror.

“You’re late,” the bartender said as he passed them to open up the bar’s swinging door. “I asked you to do me a favour but I didn’t think you’d be that late.”

“Had things to do,” a familiar voice muttered behind them, echoed by the steady click of heels on the hardwood. “Not like you care anyway.”

Castiel’s head lifted and both he and Dean turned to stare at the tiny brunette walking down the bar with her back to them. 

“Fucking rain.” Ruffling her damp hair with one hand, she yawned and then twisted mid step to set her bag down with unusual grace. She glanced at them with a flick of her eyes but turned away as if she barely noticed them. The bartender grabbed his coat, tossed her the keys, and headed out without another word.

As the door closed again, Dean subtly checked on Castiel. The angel wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from the woman in front of them to even notice the way Dean was trying to discourage him from staring at her.

Meg’s body and face, everything on the surface of her stolen body, was familiar; even the slight differences weren’t enough to hide that. She’d done something to her hair, cropped a bit shorter into messy waves, with dark reds dyed in, and her eyes were lined heavier as if to draw attention away from the circles beneath them. What she was wearing was nearly Meg like with the black tights hiked to her thighs and the boots up to her calf. The black t-shirt and skirt weren’t out of place. The human face she’d taken seemed just as young and untouched. At first glance, no one could tell there was something different about her. 

There was a strange look to her though; like she knew she didn’t belong. As if all the makeup and hair dye was a cover and she was openly hiding behind a mask. 

But something told Dean that she could have been wearing her real face out for everyone to see and Castiel wouldn’t stop staring at her so intensely. 

After fixing her necklace and putting her hair back, Meg looked around the empty place before her dark eyes came back to them. She glanced over Castiel before looking at Dean. “You’re one of the guys who stays at the house right? One of James’ buds. Henry, isn’t it?”

Dean smiled. “That’s right.”

“You still shacking up with that pretty, gigantic man?”

He lost the smile. “He’s my brother.”

She grinned and leaned towards him. “That’s what they all say.” Before he could respond, she replaced his empty bottle with a full one and looked at Castiel, ready to ask him if he wanted another. When she saw him staring, she didn’t seem able to speak. He watched her reaction to him, his eyes running over her face with curious intimacy and his head tilted a little to take her all in. He couldn’t seem to get enough of just looking at her; he didn’t blink, barely breathed. He actually relaxed when her eyes flicked over him thoughtfully, trying to see why he looked so fascinated by her. 

Dean looked at the two, saw Meg’s look and cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, he doesn’t get out much,” he said for an apology, nudging him hard in the side.

“Yes.. I…” Castiel looked at the bar and had to close his eyes. “You are very… beautiful.”

“Thanks, I think.” Meg frowned as if his compliment was unexpected while Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Weather holding out?” Dean asked to try to divert the conversation.

“Rain’s coming in. Has been going on for a week now. Had some work postponed because of it.” Her eyes went over to Castiel again as if she was trying to figure out who he was. “James mentioned you’d be in.”

“He’s been giving you work?”

“Some.”

Castiel muttered to himself and then realized they were staring at him.

She ran her eyes over Castiel, trying to draw conclusions when he looked back at her.. “Look, buddy, I don’t have time for drunks. Out.”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. Not yet.”

He missed the man beside him giving another roll of his eyes and Meg simply looked confused. She opened her mouth to argue when the door chimes jangled and they heard an excited child shout. 

“Mommy!”

Castiel jerked a little at the sound and Dean restrained him by his arm as a tiny blur race over around to the other side of the bar. Meg grabbed hold of the small girl who launched herself at her and swung her up into her arms. She boosted her up so she could look her in the eye.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed and looked up at a blonde teenage girl who had followed the child in. 

She shrugged and cracked her gum. “Mom called. I have to go home early.”

“So you brought a… three year old to a bar?” Dean asked and Meg sighed in exasperation. Almost ignoring the conversation, Castiel couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tiny girl who was wrapping herself around Meg’s upper body, a stuffed toy unicorn held close between them. He’d forgotten to breath around Meg and now he wasn’t sure he could move a muscle in fear he might ruin this. Blue eyes held Castiel’s gaze for a moment and stared shyly at him. He could only stare back, wanting to smile but suddenly not knowing how.

_Nyx._

“It’s fine, Beth. Go.” Meg’s eyes were already on the child in her arms. “So, what did you do?”

“Nothin’.” Her eyes went away from Castiel to glance at Dean.

“I know you, kiddo. What happened?”

“She’s mean.” Nyx glared at where the babysitter was leaving the room. “Her eyes go black. Don’t like her.” 

“Baby, people’s eyes don’t go black.”

Dean glanced at Castiel, nodded, and slipped off the bar stool to follow the girl out without another word. Knowing he didn’t need to say anything.

Castiel barely noticed him. His eyes were on the small dark haired girl who was chattering away to her mother. Meg carried her around and the girl’s head turned towards him abruptly again when she saw him still sitting close by.

She pointed at him. “Who?”

“Customer, Nyx. Remember?” Meg set her down on the counter. “Stay still, be good for two seconds. I’ll call Josh and we can go home early.”

The girl nodded and swung her legs, watching as Meg dug through her bag for her phone. But slowly Nyx looked over at Castiel and he could barely tear his eyes away from her.

“Hi,” she whispered shyly.

Castiel looked back down at the bar and shuddered a little. She managed to scoot forward and climb over onto the stool beside him.

“You look sad.”

“No. You just remind me of someone,” he said and the girl tilted her head. It took her a moment to understand.

“You a daddy?”

He smiled wistfully. “Something like that.”

She spun on her chair before she rose on her knees to look him in the eye. “Don’t have one.”

Castiel closed his eyes, feeling as if she had struck him. Her voice had been clear but he’d noticed the bit of sadness there too, something that sounded too mature for a child. Her hands went to either side of his face and his eyes popped open to stare at her, realizing she had moved to sit on the bar in front of him. She stared back, for a moment no longer just a child. Her fingers smoothed down his face, patting at his stubbled cheeks curiously. 

“ Nyx,” she blurted out, tongue tripping over her childish lisp, and he realized she wanted him to say his name.

“Clarence,” he lied as he looked into her blue eyes.

“No. You’re not. You lyin’.” She frowned. Reaching over the bar, she picked up her stuffed toy and held it out to him. “See. That’s Clarence.”

“Nyx!” Setting her phone down, Meg came back and scooped her up over the counter. “Leave him alone.”

“Castiel!” Nyx declared, pointing at him. Castiel stared at her and then at Meg. She stuttered a little, her brow wrinkling as if she was struggling to remember. Then she recovered with a shrug and roll of her eyes. 

“Come on, little monster, you can colour for a while and leave him alone.” Swinging her daughter into a fireman’s hold, Castiel listened to Nyx’s loud giggling as Meg carried her to the other end of the bar. Every happy sound felt as if they were knives cutting into him and he stared at the counter, shuddering.

“Father, what have I done,” he whispered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Meg giving the little girl crayons and paper, before she went to serve two men that had come in after Dean had left. With a desperation he hadn’t felt in months, he downed his beer and started on Dean’s. Part of him wished he could still feel that heady numbness it should have brought. When he’d been human, it had been surprising that it had only taken one or two to get him drunk. Now? Not even a buzz.

He forced himself to drink slower, wanting to suddenly drag out the time he had allowed himself. Half an hour passed as he sat at the bar, listening to Meg talk to Nyx and sometimes ignore the flirting of the men getting drunk at the table behind him. He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. He wanted to move, to say something that could get Meg to stand in front of him and talk, even if she stared at him strangely and treated him as a drunk. 

A tiny tug on his coat made him jump a little in his seat before he looked down to see Nyx standing beside him, holding her crayons and papers. She smiled and then started climbing up onto Dean’s barstool beside him. He reached out to help her, worried she would fall, and she held onto his hand for a second before she was able to sit. Her small fingers clenched around his large palm and he remembered when those fingers had held one of his fingers so tight. The trust in the gesture was startling, even when she let him go.

“I drew you!” she said happily. Castiel stared at the drawing she had made. It was a stick figure with two scratchy wings and a circle meant to be a halo. Childish and in red crayon but it made him stare.

“I look like that?” he asked carefully.  Did she actually see wings and a glow about him?Did he actually frown that much?

Nyx chewed on her lower lip. She looked at it then up at him thoughtfully. Her dark hair swished before her face before she nodded. Castiel took the paper and stared at it. Judging by the smaller figure in the corner of the large construction paper, she’d drawn herself as well with smoky lines. 

“Can I have this?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why he felt that impulse; it shouldn’t be something an angel would ask for. But something in her delighted grin made him glad he had. Finally able to smile back, he waited for her to get another piece of paper and start drawing again before he folded up the one he had and tucked it in his inner pocket.

She was talking aloud to herself, to some imaginary friend he thought, and he found himself wanting to ask questions. But he couldn’t think of what to say. So he contented himself with watching her draw strange things.

“She likes you.” Meg’s voice snapped him out of it and he looked around to see her standing just between them, leaning over Nyx’s shoulder to look at what she was drawing. “She’s usually shy with strangers.”

Something in her nearness made him realize he was far more out of control than he thought he could be after nearly four years. Her hair brushed his shoulder and he watched her profile intently as she leaned over further. His fingers twitched on the bar and he quickly grasped a beer bottle to keep from reaching out.

“She’s…” He searched for a word that wouldn’t come across as creepy. “Very sweet.”

Meg nodded and looked the drawing the child was making.

“Nyx, what’s this?” she asked. Nyx had been drawing a face, though her scratches barely made it a face, and she had filled in black eyes and fangs. It was a strange picture for a child.

“Lev…Lev…” Nyx gave a frustrated sound when she couldn’t figure out the word and shrugged. She changed her crayons around and started drawing flowers instead. Castiel still stared at Meg more than the drawing, absorbing the familiar look of her so close. Trying to see if there was anything under the surface.

He would have missed it if she hadn’t turned to face him suddenly. No human would ever see it, not even a demon or angel who didn’t know what to look for. It was so small, so insignificant.

A crack.

Under the disguise of a human soul glowing out of her there was a hair line crack down the surface. Just under it he could see a darkness and thought for a second he saw her face flicker a little. It made him stare at her and not know what to say. 

Meg frowned at him. “You… you like staring, huh?” She walked around him over the bar and he stared at her, still hearing Nyx muttering to herself. He tried to make himself look away but he saw her curiosity and met it with his own.

“I’m sorry.”

“No problem. So you and Henry aren’t together, are you?” she asked. “Or you and his ‘brother’.” She quoted that word and Castiel sighed.

“No.”

“Just sayin’. Seems like a lot of good looking ones around here are…”

“We’re not.” Castiel glanced at Nyx’s drawing to avoid Meg’s curious look.

“Just passing through then?” she asked and he nodded. “Not much to see in this town.”

“I leave tonight,” he said and he lowered his voice. “It’s for the best.”

Unwittingly, his eyes were drawn back to Nyx and then up to Meg. She tilted her head at him and he held her stare, wondering if she recognized anything about him. Her lips parted a little and her gaze wandered over all of him from his hands to his face. She seemed to be fighting to find the words to say something. But before she could manage to think of something, her eyes darted behind him as the conversation behind them grew louder and drunker. 

“Nyx, behave,” she warned the little girl and headed back to where the other men were sitting. Nyx huffed and handed Castiel another drawing. He looked at it and then at her.

“What is this? A cloud?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid. “Bee.”

“Oh.” He turned it around and nodded as if he could see it. “Yes, it is.”

Nyx gave him a look as if she wasn’t sure if he was stupid or not, but then she shrugged and started drawing again. Feeling awkward, he looked at his beer and almost prayed for Dean to come back and order him to leave. He wasn’t sure he could get himself to leave the bar otherwise.

“Come on, sweetheart,” a gruff voice said behind him. “You can’t wear that and not expect me to want to get a taste…”

He heard a large hand slapping flesh and twisted around on his seat. Nyx barely flinched as he stood up, ready to attack. She just continued to draw.

Looking tiny between the two men trying to keep her at their table, Meg dodged another ass slap and grabbed one man’s wrist in her hand. She flipped him around her onto the table and wrenched his head back, slamming his head into the wood. His friend surged up, raising a fist. Meg’s spiky heel caught him in the solar plexus and he went down, choking on his breath as she spun around. Half-kneeling on him, her dark eyes flickered dangerously.

“Stay down!” she snapped as she lifted her fist and the man behind her grabbed at her wrist. Castiel heard the smack of his fist hitting her jaw and she sagged a bit. With one last check on Nyx, who seemed unbothered by the sounds, he launched forward and blocked another slap aimed at Meg’s face. He took a blow to his side for his trouble but barely felt it, trying to see if she was hurt.

Meg shoved him out of the way and he saw her hand come out. Her fist cracked against the larger man’s jaw and sent him flying over the table. Ignoring their shouts, she grabbed one’s wallet he’d left on the table, fished out some money, and then slapped him in the face with it.

“Get the hell out of here,” she snarled at the two men, giving the one a kick in his ass to get him moving. They stumbled out, half-drunk anyway and cursing at her.

Meg shook out her stinging hand and turned around, bumping into Castiel. He looked at her, backing up a little as he took in the fresh bruise high on her cheek. As if it cost her something, she shrugged. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He saw the broken flesh of her knuckle where her attacker’s teeth had cut. “Your hand is…”

He reached out to heal her and then hesitated. Meg stared at his hovering hand suspiciously and he lowered it, getting out of her way.

“Just need some ice, that’s all. When Josh gets back, he’ll bitch but that’s the usual.” She went around the other side of the bar and looked at where Nyx was drawing. “Right, kid?”

“Right!” Nyx said happily as she coloured another bee.

Meg gave a half smile that made Castiel stare at her and then suddenly she was staring back at him. Realizing that he was alone with them completely, with Meg’s attention focussed on him, didn’t help his nerves. He had stayed too long already.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Call it even at six.” Meg was running the broken skin of her knuckles under the cold water and Castiel stared as he fished around for what bills he had left. It was natural, angelic instinct, he told himself, to want to heal any injuries.

It was not angelic the reason why he knew he couldn’t risk touching her.

When he looked down at Nyx, she was staring up at him, chewing on the paper corner thoughtfully as she stared at him. “Bye,” she finally said, sniffling a bit.

Castiel smiled at her. “Goodbye.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Meg watching him. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said, tossing her hair out of her eyes and turning back to bandaging her knuckles. Castiel dragged his eyes over her and then headed out the door, knowing if he just flew off Nyx would notice. It took him longer than it should have to get out the door. He grasped the door tight, nearly crushing the metal bracket in his grip, and stood for a moment, staring outside and hearing Nyx’s chatter.

But he found the strength to leave.

Not noticing the way Meg’s hands were starting to shake.

~~

Linda Tran was not a fan of Arkansas. She did not like the heat or the humidity in the summer and how quiet it was in the winter. Three years hadn’t changed that. But she’d been willing to help the Winchesters in exchange for them keeping Kevin safe. Following Sam into town, she’d found Meg’s old car and knew she had probably gone to the bar. Sam had disappeared apparently, which was an accomplishment with a very memorable Impala, and she’d decided that maybe she could just take the time to walk through the stores that lined the street.

She was turning left towards a tourist booth when she banged into someone. Rough and calloused hands grabbed her and held her still.

“Sorry I…” When she looked up through the afternoon sun, she gaped at the scruffy, dark haired man in dusty clothing staring back at her. Gaunt cheeks, hallowed out eyes and hair that flopped over tired eyes, Kevin Tran didn’t resemble anything close to what he had been a few years ago. His eyes were blood shot with deep purple circles underneath them but what worried her was the exhausted way he swayed on his feet.

But when he grinned she saw her son in that look.

“Hey Mom.”

~~

Sitting in the Impala down the street, wedged between two transports, Sam watched thoughtfully as the Trans started down the street towards the bar. Kevin rarely contacted them anymore; not for information or for help. He was on his own, he’d yelled at Dean, and it was better that way. Dean hadn’t argued though Sam had known that he wanted to. So when he wandered, they’d thought they’d find ways to track him. But he’d fallen through the cracks easily. It was already hard enough to keep track of everyone they had to try to protect.

Sam checked his phone again and found a message telling him to go to the south of town. To bring a shovel.

Which meant only bad things, Sam was sure.

~~

 _The blonde woman was prey. It was the best way to explain how she felt as she watched the woman and a handsome dark haired man play with their children. It was a family, Meg thought, as they helped the little boy colour as another infant boy slept in his carrier_ . _She was dreaming again but at least the scenery had changed._

_When she looked at her hands, she saw that they were massive and work rough, flannel pulled to her wrists. A quick glance at the mirror let her see a man of Native descent staring back at her. But the face didn’t shock her._

_She never felt like she belonged in the first place. Dreaming that she was a man wasn’t out of the ordinary._

_When her eyes clicked black, she jerked and looked down at her coffee. With the suddenness of dreams, the crowd was suddenly gone from the diner and she was alone. Except for a man and a woman in the corner, their mouths almost fused together. The passionate kissing made her stomach turn for a reason other than embarrassment. As if there was something in the kissing that meant more._

_When her head turned, the man in the couple was standing beside her and the woman was stumbling away._

_“Daughter.” As if the body meant nothing to what she was inside._

_“Why am I here?” she asked, her body’s voice gruff and coarse._

_“Just sealed the deal with that lovely lovely Diana. So to follow through… I need you to kill her husband,” he said bluntly, grinning at her indulgently. Like a parent giving his favourite child a treat._

_“Why?”_

_“Because I told you to. That is what you do, right? Obey your Father.” He nodded to where the woman was slipping away through the door and his grin remained wicked. “He’s the cook in the back. Likes to smack her around even though she’s got a little girl back home. Poor thing. She wanted to be an actress but I told her that her kid could be an actress instead, that we can get her to LA maybe. Just didn’t say what would happen to her.”_

_His eyes flicked to yellow and he stared at Meg. “Kill him. That seals her deal.”_

_He was gone in the blink of an eye and Meg stared at the knife that had appeared in her hands._

_In a strange, fast forward motion, the dream progressed through the night. Fast and in a blur until the cook finally came out from the back. He collected dishes and eyed her suspiciously. Meg waited until he was behind her. Should feel wrong, to stalk her prey like this, to want to kill._

_But she found it strangely familiar, exciting._

_He had his back to her when she grabbed her coffee mug and twisted to slam it onto his head. Dropping like a stone, he fought her weakly when Meg pounced. The heavy man she was kept him down easily with just the slightest pressure and he screamed as she buried the knife in his stomach. Humming lowly, she jerked it up into his heart in a jagged line._

_“Meg?”_

_The voice intruding on her delight was followed by a flash of light. Her tongue suddenly felt swollen, her head pounding as she twitched and struggled to finish the job. Even when he broke into a death rattle, her attention was on the shadowy door, where cracks of light from outside were shining through._

_But the light flickered again. Beckoning her towards the shadows._

_“Meg?”_

When she managed to open her eyes, the overhead lights of the bar made her wince and shut them again. Everything burned and she groaned, rolling her head to the side. The back of her head felt as if she’d been hit by something and her mouth tasted bloody.  
“Easy easy, you took a tumble again,” Linda Tran’s voice was soothing. “Nothing to be scared of.”

“Nyx?” Meg whispered. It was hard to remember what happened. She remembered looking at Nyx as her daughter had shown her something and then nothing. Even the dream was fading now.

“Right here. She found me outside and we got to you in time.”

Meg closed her eyes and Linda pressed the cold cloth against her forehead. “Was it another memory or just a bad dream? You hit the ground hard by the look of it.”

Thinking it was a memory, even a twisted one, gave her the strangest urge to run. Ignoring her protesting body, Meg pushed herself into a sitting position and cradled the back of her head. It felt sticky with blood from where she must have hit it and her throat ached. “We?” she managed.

“You’ve looked better,” Kevin’s familiar voice made her open her eyes to see him sitting at the bar. Nyx was in his lap, her blue eyes wide with worry and she was chewing on her lower lip as she stared. Meg smiled weakly at her. Her daughter had seen worse in her short life with these strange spells of her mother’s and she knew to just find Linda to make it better. Meg wasn’t sure what it was that Linda did or what she gave her, but it tended to keep the episodes at bay and the dreams would leave.

A slight movement to her left made her glance up to see the man in the tan overcoat staring at her.

“You?” She had to blink to see him clearly. “I thought you left.”

“I forgot something,” he said though his eyes darted left as if it was a lie. Not wanting to argue, Meg shut her eyes. “I saw your daughter and these people running back. I thought perhaps those men had come back here after I left.”

With her eyes closed, Meg didn’t see the fierce look Linda gave Castiel.

He ignored it and knelt beside her, gingerly reaching out to touch the back of her head. “You won’t need stitches but it will hurt for a while.”

“Had worse,” Meg said, her voice sleepy with the usual exhaustion that followed these spells.

“You’ve had them long?” he asked clinically.

“Are you a doctor?”

“No. Just… I’ve seen this before.” 

Linda cleared her throat and held out a mug of water for her. As she downed it to get rid of the strange sulphur taste in her mouth, Meg felt warmth at the back of her head as his palm touched the small wound. It didn’t hurt and it left her feeling numb where the ache should be. The fingers sifting through her dark hair were gentle as the swelling lost its heat and the headache left. When her eyes lazily lifted up to meet his blue gaze fixed on her face, something shifted. His touch was not sexual or anything more than gentle.

_But it was familiar. Intimate…_

“Let’s lock this place up. Josh will have to deal on his own tonight.” Linda reached over and took her hands to help her stand, leaving Castiel kneeling on the ground for a moment.

“We should get you home,” Kevin said and he looked at the little girl in his arms. “Right, Nyxie? We’ll get you ice cream. I’m pretty sure Mom has chocolate at home.”

The little girl nodded eagerly. Kevin grinned down at her and lifted her up onto his shoulders before passing her the stuffed unicorn. She was giggling at a joke he told her and when they headed for the door Meg had to smile. Kevin was the child’s favourite person by far when he visited his mother. Made her a little grateful after one of her spells that he so easily took over.

Like the man beside her, his face always tugged at her memory. The way wearing a leather jacket, seeing blood or smelling smoke did. Sometimes the strangest things pulled at her but never did an actual memory return.

As she struggled into her jacket, she swayed dizzily before grabbing her side-bag close to her. With a warning look that told her to take it easy, Linda locked up behind her and flipped the sign to closed. Half way through the door, she swayed a bit more and then she was held still. A hand gripped her elbow to steady her and she unconsciously pulled free from it when she found her balance again. She staggered a few steps, following Kevin and Nyx as they chatted on the way down the street.

Behind her, she heard muttering voices as the man and Linda spoke. Her eyes were on the buildings and the cars on the street, taking it in with a drugged feeling of being displaced. It was weird how angry he sounded with Linda and not the reverse. She stopped to lean on a car and brushed her hand through her hair. It took a moment to feel right again, it always did, but as she leaned there, she felt Linda pass by, grumbling angrily. Grinning to herself, Meg didn’t realize Castiel was beside her again until she opened her eyes again.

The angel was content just to watch her as he waited.

He ran his eyes over her, barely able to hide the way he lingered over her. His thorny caretaker; it was almost easy to picture that dark power of her, the terrible demonic features that he’d learned to love. He could see it simmering under her surface as the spell began to crack even further under the pressure of his Grace he had used. It hadn’t been much power but the crack was widening because of it. Whatever dream she had been under was not a dream but a memory, a way of the spell dying but still fighting the inevitable. 

She fixed her coat and didn’t seem to notice the way he looked at the fragile curve to her neck, the way he itched to touch her. He kept his hands in his coat pockets to resist the urge. It was curious how fast and how sudden he had gone from sullen to hopeful.

Knowing this day maybe just be a passing moment was something he ignored. 

Part of him wanted to absorb as much as he could before he buried this away and pretend he didn’t care that it would never happen again.

She crossed her arms over her  chest and looked up at him. “Why did you come back to the bar? Not like we know each other.”

"I wanted to be sure you were unhurt."

“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” When she saw him actually smile at her teasing, Meg’s dark lined eyes squinted at him. “You don’t talk like you’re from around here. And I’m fine. I’ve been beating up the bar guys since I could remember and I still get those seizures. They aren’t severe.”

When she turned to go, Castiel leaned back against the brick wall of the building. “How much of it do you remember? Of your life?”

Meg jerked to a stop.

"What did you say?" She pirouetted slowly on her heel and took a few steps towards him.

"Your memory. You don’t remember much, do you?"

Her face closed up. “How did you know?”

Guilt crossed his face for just a second before he reminded himself that this really wasn’t Meg. This was a human version, a shadow of what she really was. Much of her was the same but what remained different was what needed protecting. She wouldn’t know what he was or what he knew and that could be for the best.

"I figured it out. I knew that you seemed upset when your friend asked if was about a memory. I knew…"

If he thought he was going to get the slightest hint of gratitude for his concern, he forgot who she really was. Immediately she was defensive, not liking how much a total stranger was seeing about her.

"Well, take your figuring out and fuck off." She spun around and started off down the street, her heavy bag slung over her shoulder. Ahead of her, Kevin  was still holding Nyx and his eyes caught Castiel’s. With a shake of his head, the angel disappeared down the street and left them alone.

"Who the fuck did he think he was?" Meg demanded as she came up beside them. "Saying he knew anything about me. I don’t even know a damn thing about me!"

"Children present," Linda said and Meg eyed Kevin.

"Sorry, kiddo."

Ignoring the bad joke, he sighed and passed Nyx over to her, holding the stuffed toy for her. “She’s not feeling well. I think the excitement has gotten to her.”

Meg cuddled the child to her chest and felt her sleepily grab at her necklace. “Come on, baby girl, let’s get you home to ice cream and a nap.”

"Want that man to come."

"I’m not sure he’d want to," Meg joked and Linda choked on what she wanted to say. Balancing Nyx on her hip, Meg followed them back up the street to where Linda had parked. She was in no condition to drive anyway. Nyx burrowed her tiny body into Meg’s leather jacket for warmth.

"I like him."

"Yeah, baby? Why’s that?" Meg asked, deciding to humour her. Nyx was toying with the charms on her necklace like she always did. 

"He’s pretty. He glows."

"He is pretty but I don’t think he glows, Nyxie." Meg paused when her daughter lifted her head a bit off her shoulder and looked at her. Nyx was notorious for not trusting people, especially men. "Why do you like him so much?"

"Nice to me. He sees me."

Meg caught on fast to her daughter’s childish phrasing. It was perfectly normal, for her, to talk to her nearly four year old daughter like this. What Nyx tended to understand was more advanced than people gave her credit for; they often misinterpreted her shyness for childish ignorance. But she seemed to be incredibly smart and she didn’t often like people. Those she did like tended to get the full force of her attention, which was why she loved Kevin and Linda so much. What few men or women Meg had met either looked through Nyx or paid too much smothering attention to her, both as ways to try to get to Meg’s bed. Both ways got them the door.

Nyx’s intuition about people was pretty uncanny and Meg preferred to stick to the occasional fling anyway. It was hard to find the desire when that innate wrongness lingered every time she tried to let go and enjoy a lover. Nothing lasted. She didn’t feel normal enough anyway. Usually it ended with her kicking them out before they even really began and the feeling like she wasn’t right had never really left.

"He loves me."

"Say what?" Meg eye rolled at the sudden comment. "Nyx, he knew you five minutes."

"Loves me. Like you love me."

"Kid, you can’t tell that with people you just met."

She walked a few steps and Nyx tugged on her hair. “Loves you too.”

Meg nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise and then sighed. “Okay, Nyxie, time for bed. You’re tired.”

Nyx huffed and rolled her blue eyes in impression of her mother. “He does.”

"Yeah and I’ll believe in unicorns."

~~

“I’m going to tear out your throat and drink your blood!” the demon shrieked. Standing in front of her, Dean stared at the trapped demon. It hadn’t been hard. It was a young one, likely fresh from the Pit and a little stupid with overconfidence and new power. All it had taken was the right trap and she was stuck in the salt lines. Now all she could do was pace to the limits of the circle in the angry way of a caged animal. 

“That’s more of a vamp thing to try. Go with something more demonic and I’d believe it,” Dean said as he leaned against the tree and watched her. Before she could respond, the Impala roared up the dirt road near the old building and the demon stared at the car with open recognition.

“Winchesters!” Her black eyes locked on Dean with growing terror and he grinned.

“Bit slow, aren’t you?” Ignoring her spitting insults, he waited for Sam to get out of the car, quickly check the surroundings, and come up beside him before continuing. “So why were you in Heber Springs? Can’t tell me you’ve been riding that girl for long. She still has that fresh meat look.”

“It’s a free country.”

“Not for demons.” He stood across from her and unsheathed Ruby’s Knife. “Care to share why you were pulling babysitter duty with a kid? Not what a demon would normally do.”

“Maybe we’re expanding operations,” she said sarcastically.

“Slim pickings in the Pit? Or is it some sort of war going on?”

The black eyes turned back to more innocent blue. “What war?”

“Cute.” Sam watched her impatiently. “Why are you babysitting?”

“Why do you two care what I do with a little kid?” Her eyes rolled to the sky. “I took this chick when she was going for a walk in the park. Kid was an accessory. Screamed her damn head off when she saw me and I just can’t stand kids. But if I killed her…”

“Too much attention, right,” Dean finished for her. “Why Heber Springs?”

She twitched a little, not about to answer, and Sam pulled out a bottle of holy water. “Try it.” 

 “Crowley said there was a new type of Cambion out there. Anyone who is available is to look for her. Him and Abaddon wanted most of the soldiers in Hell but the rest of us…”

“Search and destroy.”

She grinned wickedly. “Like killing a little kid is such a hard thing.”

Dean smirked. “I’m glad you said that.”

Before Sam could stop him, he slammed the blade into her chest, watching the sparks fly and the demon chortle in surprise. Sam flinched and looked away, rubbing at his chest a little. As the demon sagged lifelessly, he got out of the way of her falling body and gave Dean a look.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“Look, we can’t risk exorcising and we can’t risk any demon coming here. Buys us some time.” Dean wiped the knife on his jeans and as he sheathed it again he said loudly, “Right, Cas?”

The angel sighed heavily as he fluttered in, looking annoyed to have been discovered. “Yes, exactly.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” Sam sighed and looked at the body. “We don’t even know if Crowley could find her or Meg. They’ve been safe for three years now.”

Castiel looked ready to say something, so Dean nudged him hard. “Spit it out.”

“What I used to hide Meg… it’s cracking. Sooner or later, it may crack entirely with the right pressure.”

“From Crowley?”

“Or from me, from anyone with the right amount of power. Just even having an angel here seems to be affecting Meg now. And we only met for just over an hour.” Missing Dean’s curious look, Castiel looked out at the road. “We need to be more careful. I’ll… try my best to keep far away, make it look like I was searching for the Metatron or someone else.”

“We leave too fast, it’s going to draw attention. We can ward up Linda’s house, try to keep them from being seen. But we’ll have to think of something. We’ve had them three years here and never saw the demons even noticing something different.”

“Now we’ve got demons out, monsters starting to show up in places we don’t always see them.” Sam stared at the girl’s body. “Something must be taking notice. Not just Crowley. Abaddon leashed him pretty tight lately.”

Castiel nodded, ready to wing off when Dean cleared his throat. Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder at the brothers.

“But, Cas, it was good to see them, wasn’t it?” Dean asked. “For a minute there, I saw the old you again.”

Castiel nodded. “It was.” He hesitated, not sure how to continue. “Thank you… for giving me that time with them.”

Before they could accept his thanks, he was gone, the demon’s dead vessel gone with him. Dean looked at Sam and gave an almost sad smile.

“Something tells me that that won’t be enough.”

Sam nodded. “It had to happen some day.”

“Just hope its not something that is going to backfire.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because that never happens.”

~~

The bartender wasn’t sure what to make of the young man sitting in front of him. He had been pouring drinks when, he was sure, this new customer appeared out of no where. He looked almost too young to be drinking but he smiled so winningly that he had poured him a beer anyway. A crisp fifty was laid across the bar and he realized it was a bribe immediately.

“I’m looking for someone.” The eyes flashed yellow for just a heartbeat before they were blue. “And I hear that you saw a young man in here earlier.”

“I see a lot of travellers, going up to the springs,” Josh tried to deflect. The man put another fifty on the bar. The lights overhead flickered a little

“These boys are very special.” He dug into his jean pocket and pulled out a photo of two handsome men, likely in their thirties,. They were hardly boys, to the bartender, and the way the photo had been taken was clear that they’d been unaware they were watched.

“Yeah, I recognize ‘em. They show up every few months. Stay up at the B&B house run by that Ms. Banner. Nice lady but she scares most of us.” Josh looked at him nervously. “Why are you looking for them? You don’t look like a cop.”

“Oh, I’m not. We just go way back,” was the calm answer. The grin though was strangely happy. “You didn’t see anyone else with them?”

“No one I recognized.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” Blue eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “You might want to get out of here in about five minutes.”

Josh gave him a puzzled look. “What? Why?”

The eyes snapped to his face. “Because I need something to call some old friends with. I’m giving you a running head start.” Reaching under the bar for his shotgun, the bartender rested his hand on the trigger. The way the young man counted showed that he meant it.  “One thousand one… one thousand two…”

But one look in the swirling colours of those strange eyes had Josh frozen, even when a blade slashed out and slit his throat.


	2. Shatter (When Angels Reveal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: As demons and monsters continue their war in Hell, Castiel stays close to the Winchesters, wanting to protect them and his family. But as Meg’s trueself begins to crack through the wall, stranger things begin to pull them all together before ripping them apart.

Crowley had seen demons and monsters blown apart, ripped to shreds, dragged, drowned, eaten, stabbed; all sorts of the most degrading or disgusting ways to end them. He had seen what all sides, whether on the side of good or evil, were capable of. Suffice to say that there was little that he hadn’t seen. He had even seen a demon revived from the final death, something that had never been done before and hadn’t been done since.  All of that led to one very large conclusion: the past three years had been filled with enough weirdness that he was hard to shock.

So finding himself surprised the moment he came back to his private torture chambers and found demons and monsters alike waiting for him, like allies might, was almost new again. The demons backed away from the monsters immediately but there was no sign of a battle having taken place. It was as if the monsters had been let in, despite his express orders for them to be killed on sight. No loyalty in demons anymore, Crowley thought angrily and decided to give most of them back to the Pit if he had to.

Hunger was clear in the eyes of the monsters. Though they were just souls and would have no form on Earth, here in Hell they managed to take on a corporeal form, the same as they might Purgatory.

 _More was the pity,_  he thought,  _they weren’t pretty thing to look at on the whole._

His personal guard waited, and at leas they seemed ready to attack, but the monsters were at a standstill. Everything about them screamed that they were edgy, hungry and wanting for something. Little opportunity had been given to them since they had tried to invade Hell. They might all be half-mad and strong because of Purgatory, but Hell was the demons’ home ground and they didn’t know all of its ins and outs. That they had made it this far, souls intact and not sent back with their tails between their legs, meant that they had some insider information. 

Crowley hated traitors when he wasn’t the one doing the betrayal.

"No loyalty in demons," he muttered as he slid the door shut. The fewer to see what went on here the better. "Well, what do you want, eh? Must be something big if you are all fired storming down here like you’ve got a war to start."

A creature stepped forward and its twisted snout and broken fangs revealed what had once been a werewolf. Time in Purgatory had twisted it into a very different sort of beast. Vaguely, the demon had to wonder Purgatory could do to change a creature so viciously.

"Want her."

Crowley arched his eyebrow. “Her? You might to be a bit more clear.”

"Our mother."

He looked over at where, after he’d been done with the body, Crowley had strapped her body to the ceiling like a kind of trophy. In pieces. “Lots of good she’ll do you. She’s just been hanging around, you could say.”

Delighted with his joke, the demons chortled and he grinned at the monsters. There was no laughter or even the slightest tic of emotion in the ones closest to the broken doors. But the werewolf leapt onto the table between them and roared into his face so that blood and spittle flew between them. Its massive claws dug deep into the surface of the table and the metal bent under the pressure.

Turning his head to the side, Crowley gave a disgusted sigh and dabbed at his wet face with a silk handkerchief.

"Thanks.” He eyed the snarling monster. "That's it? You storm hell just for mommy dearest?"

"Our creator," a vampire behind the werewolf snarled. He would have to be an alpha or pureblood to intimidate the werewolf into cowering a little. "Our leader. She is our blood."

"A rotted corpse who has only been good for biology lessons. Still reproducing, and I can imagine that she’s still affecting you." He snapped his fingers and the nails he’d kept embedded in Eve’s brain wound deeper. The vampire twisted and screamed with it, furiously digging at his own head.

Crowley grinned. “You don’t really think I'd give up a prize like her without a fight, do you?”

The werewolf on the table half changed in a tiny red-haired woman from the face up. Her eyes fixed in Crowley. “No. But we will take her. Or you will hear nothing of what we know.”

 "Dead monsters? What the hell do you all know beyond hunting each other?" he asked apathetically, turning around insultingly. The werewolf writhed a little and Crowley turned back towards the monster. Behind it, a Shifter had pulled away from the monsters group and it made him stare. It looked stunningly like Castiel.

"One of my kind learned about the fallen angel. We stole his body’s hair, became him. Worked for a short time until he killed us. But as him, we heard rumours, of strange things. About the Winchesters hiding a woman and a baby. A special woman and a special baby. We thought that was nothing." The Shifter’s blue eyes fixed on Crowley and saw his expression slipping through the poker face. "But apparently, it is worth something to you. We can tell you where they are and those of us who are revived will help you recover them. We have our own interests there."

"Might be. If that whore is alive, then I want her. She would give me a certain amount of leverage. Just what are you going to do with her?” Crowley asked as he pointed at Eve. He had the feeling that if she had still had eyes she’d be watching her children. 

The werewolf transformed back fully and howled. The other monsters grinned and, lost in the possibly legal outcomes of the deal, the King of the Crossroads missed the way the pieces of Eve’s body shuddered in apparent pleasure. The way her eyes did open this time to watch what was happening.

—-

—-

The old house was likely a firetrap, but at the time it had been the safest place for them to hide. Small town, small population, not enough to get noticed and just enough to keep them from being too isolated. Linda Tran had made it her home and Dean did like it. It gave them a place to rest and relax between hunts when the bunker was too closed in for his liking.

Not to mention this way he didn’t lose track of Meg or her child.

Sitting in the guest room, Dean stared out the window as Linda’s car finally came up the long driveway to the house. He could just make Meg out in the passenger side, looking like she was sound asleep and he knew where Meg was then Nyx was sure to be. He didn’t like thinking of the girl as just Meg’s; God knew he’d been the one to help bring her into this world and he knew she was Castiel’s. All he had to do was look at her and see the meatsuits the angel and demon had taken as theirs. He could see how Nyx looked both like the girl from Cheboygan and Jimmy Novak of Pontiac, Illinois but he thought of her as Meg and Castiel’s with no guilt of it. She was theirs. God, he could even imagine, with easy clarity, what her true-self looked like. Assuming she had one.

He simply didn’t like the thought of getting attached even a little to her.

It made it easier not to get attached; if he thought of her as just a kid, he kept himself from getting angry over Castiel’s choices, kept himself from wondering if she was a big bad in hiding. Castiel’s decision had kept Meg and Nyx safer than houses but absent fathers and mothers had made none of them happy before.

As he saw Nyx lean over the seat to hand Meg that ridiculous stuffed unicorn, ancient in toy terms, Dean had to smile. Sam had never explained the joke behind it and Dean figured the less he knew the better. That was a joke between demon Meg and Sam.

The thought of his brother made Dean look around to see him snoring away on the other bed. For some reason, the position made Sam look much younger and a little more vulnerable. Dean rubbed at his chest, the strange phantom pain in his chest aching. That pain was always stronger when they were separate, which had led to far too many heartache or lovesick jokes from people - even Castiel had attempted a few - , but lately the pain wasn’t leaving. Which meant that maybe the spell was starting to fade.

They would have to find another way.

The irony of it fading it just when things might be going to hell again wasn’t lost on Dean. The whole thing had been strange. Sharing in Sam’s thoughts, feelings, memories, visions had taken them places neither brother had expected before. If ever Dean had wondered what it would be like to special in a strange way, he was over it. He knew that if he felt Sam’s insecurities, then Sam had felt his.

Scary.

Sighing, he checked his phone for the hundredth time since they’d come here. No messages. He scrolled through the old text and muttered at the phone,  “Leave us to clean up the mess this time, eh, Cas?”

As if answering, the phone buzzed as a text came through.

_Thank you._

He clicked his tongue.  _This is gonna go to hell,_  he texted back.

 _Likely_ , was the answer and Dean had no response for that.

Watching the car, he mumbled a curse when he recognized Kevin getting out of the backseat with Nyx. Scraggly, dirty, gaunt but still Kevin. Their only link to the future.

Poor kid. There were better burdens to carry.

But at least he was smiling. He rarely did that anymore around them. Too much had happened to him to make his life a living nightmare. Especially when he bore prophecy now more than before. Before he’d been a translator, now he was a seer and too many people needed his help, not just them.

Poor kid.

Watching Kevin swing the little girl up onto his shoulders, Dean had to admit you would never actually know he was as worn down as he claimed. Linda had said he liked the kid, that he saw something in her. Though what, he wasn’t sure. Handling the kid seemed to make Kevin forget his burdens as he carried her up and Dean noticed Meg get out of the passenger seat, limping.

Every time they came here, she avoided them both. More because Linda told her to, he figured, and he was glad for it.

A little.

Meg the demon and Meg under human disguise weren’t that different. She hadn’t changed to him; maybe quieter and confused by her memory loss as to what she was. Linda had been the best person to leave her with; she’d been able to keep her from doing much to regain that side of her Castiel had buried. But Meg was still someone he wouldn’t want to face up against in a dark alley. Or let near any sharp objects.

The thought of Meg with a knife was definitely not something he wanted.

"They’re back?" Sam’s groggy voice intruded on his thoughts and Dean grunted, pulling back from the curtains. "Took them a while."

"Came back in Linda’s car. Good thing the Impala is parked in that side lot, eh?"

Sam got up and stood behind him, staring down at the yard. “Guess something happened. You said that Cas was okay?”

"No, I said that he said he was okay. I think seeing them again… maybe it did him some good and maybe it didn’t. I don’t know." Dean turned and walked to the door of the rented room. "You feelin’ okay?"

"Not great. Just weird. The past month my heart’s been acting funny," Sam admitted. "Like its weighed down by something. Doesn’t hurt or anything."

Dean gave him a puzzled look but said nothing to that. “So what do you want to do about this then?” he asked, pointing at where the Trans and Meg were coming up the steps below them. Like Sam, he didn’t want to think about the slow change starting to affect them both.

"What can we do? Just have to wait I guess." Sam rubbed at the back of his neck. "If Meg’s memory comes back, our problems are just going to get worse and worse. If Crowley’s right, the monsters are up to something and the demons don’t know how to cope anyway. And the monsters… well… I mean it looks like every scenario is a pretty crappy one.

"I don’t like it." His eyes flicking over Meg thoughtfully, Dean shook his head. "Don’t like it at all."

"Yeah well,” Sam gestured, "if we can find a way of warding this place up better, we can keep anyone from knowing about them for a little bit longer.”

At Dean’s disbelieving look, he sheepishly shrugged. “It’s just a theory.”

~~

The Crossroads demon sitting in the bar had been drawn by the call. It hadn’t been an SOS or anything beyond a “who is near” sort of call. Which to an old one like her was interesting. She hadn’t actually been here before. Places like these were too insignificant for a demon of her stature.

But since Abaddon had kept all of them so close to the Gates of Hell lately, the chance to escape, to cause some havoc, was tempting.

The bartender was dead, nothing but a washed out bloody corpse behind the counter, and she’d poured herself a few drinks since coming in. The dead tourists behind her she’d stolen a few trinkets off of but there’d been nothing of another demon hanging around. Or even a monster.

So maybe whoever had left the message had gone already.

Sipping delicately at her vodka, she ran a tongue over her red lips and waited.

She didn’t hear him come in. Not until he was behind her with one hand tight in her hair, the other wrapped around her throat, and his breath in her ear.

"Hello, Louise.”

With her head wrenched back, she tried to summon what demonic strength she could find but there was nothing that came to her. She felt blocked and beaten within a matter of seconds. Her eyes flitting to red, she growled angrily and looked up into the slim features of a young man with blue eyes. Under the surface, she couldn’t tell what he was. For one moment he resembled a demon, and in the next moment an angel.

"Who’re you?” she croaked and he laughed, nuzzling the side of her face before putting his lips to her ear.

"I’m the reason you’re here.” The low laugh was enough to send a chill up even the spine of an old demon like her. "Both now and a long time ago.” The hand on Louise’s throat gentled until he was stroking her skin. "Why do you think I called you here?”

"You…” She felt automatic fear and obedience towards him and she hadn’t felt that in centuries. 

"Stupid question, sorry. I usually am better at these sorts of things.” His face loomed in her vision as he pulled her hair sharply so her neck bent at a strange angle. "What kind of deal would you like to make? If I let you go, to find and speak to Crowley, you bring him here. But if you tell him about me, you die.”

"I don’t even know who you are.”

"Not yet. I want you to unleash some hellhounds. To find something for me. Just a little something”

Her eyes widened. “Only Crowley can let them out.”

"Come now. Like you couldn’t manage that.” He held up a small drawing, a scribbling sort of bees and clouds, and held it out to her. "Find me on the stateline. I have something I need the hellhound to find.”

"It will take a while, the nearest place I can retrieve them from is far away. That’s…that’s it?” she asked and he smiled, crushing the drawing and putting it in his pocket.

"For now.” His eyes flickered a little and took on an amber glow. "Until I’m ready for more.”

~~

It took hours before the hounds rose from Hell and set on their course. Standing against a lonely, mostly dead old tree, the hellhounds that had been prowling the area approached their masters with something close to devotion. As close as creatures like that could come to it. They were small compared to the beasts normally bred by Crowley or Abaddon, faster and far more wicked because of it. Bred from new litters and young, they had covered the territory with incredible speed. They were on the hunt for any smells that were just a little different and now they had found the pair that had called them.

“Of course,”  the male said as he crouched down and rubbed at one beast’s neck thoughtfully. The Crossroads demon standing behind him nervously looked around. “All we had to do was wait.” 

It growled under his hand. It had waited years for a hunt.

"What’s a little while longer? Their Judas is likely going to be one of them anyway,” the yellow eyed demon asked as he held down the crushed paper for the creatures to sniff. They snuffled hungrily over it. "Find us something special.”

With matching howls, the hounds sprang off to begin their hunt for that strange smell.

~~

Castiel always found it ironic that Metatron had been in Colorado for so long and not once had anyone had felt him there, and no one in Heaven had thought to look for him since he had gone into hiding the first time. Now, he was even certain the old angel had returned there and he could feel him lingering there. Old habits and comforts died hard with some angels, Castiel knew. But instead of charging into the old hotel that the Metatron would have gone back to, the angel went instead to a small cafe in the local town and waited after leaving a message at the front desk.

He doubted he was alone.

After leaving Heber Springs, he’d openly wandered for a few days so that he could attract the angels’ attention. Those left in charge were keeping a close eye on any strange activity and he knew they would keep a close eye on him. If he’d stayed in that small town, eventually it would have been seen as strange. He knew better than to return until they were distracted into leaving him alone. 

He fully intended on distracting them with something else. That notion of devious cruelty he had never liked using but he was not above it.

Not when on he had to protect others.

Sipping at the cup of bitter coffee, he tapped his other fingers on the table top and waited. As he had for several hours but he was in no rush. He had time. Another hour passed before a chair pulled up in front of him. Castiel only sipped his coffee and nodded to the man joining him.

"I got your message,” Marv said angrily as he snapped his fingers, a cup of coffee appearing in his hand. "What do you want, Castiel?”

The younger angel merely smiled and it was such a cool smile that the Scribe twitched visibly. Of the angels in Heaven, Castiel still intimidated him after all that had happened.

"I let you go, months ago, because I was sick of death in my family. I was tired of wars about who’s right, who’s wrong, who has followed devoutly and who has strayed. But now I need to ask you something.”

"So let me guess. You let me go, I owe you eternally for not turning me over to the Intelligence?” Marv demanded. 

Castiel squinted at him and he nervously leaned back, sensing that flippancy wasn’t going to get him anywhere today.

"Because of you, Heaven suffered. I would say you owe me much more than this. It’s a start.”

"Fine. Let’s hear it.”

"Did you ever speak to God, in the past three years?”

The offhand question made the Metatron blink unexpectedly. “No, of course not.”

"Neither did Sandalaphon?”

"Anya? Why would she?” There was something in the shifty in the way Marv looked down at his hands. "God abandoned all of us.”

"He gave us choice,” Castiel corrected. "It’s not His fault we failed his expectations.”

"What kind of parent leaves his children because it is ‘for the best’?” Marv asked and gave Castiel a smarmy grin. He didn’t miss how the younger angel flinched. "Why are you asking about God now? You avoided the subject for years now.”

"You’ve read all the scripture, created tablets, done his work and read his Words. Was there… any mention of a child of angels in the prophecies?”

Marv looked at him quizzically. “Never.” He thought it over. “Though, you have to understand, prophecies write themselves and tablets were created for every major form of life, Castiel. I merely wrote on them to instruct control. Doesn’t mean I created them. The tablets were there, I simply put words on them. There are much higher forms of life that are created that even I know nil about.”

Castiel looked at the table thoughtfully.

Marv took a sip of coffee and leaned forward. “Why the questions, Castiel? Your daughter was killed by the Lethe, your demon with her. At least, that is what we were told.” He shrugged. “At the time, I was too busy to care about the logistics and the angels too busy to know that there could be a lie in that.”

Lifting his head, Castiel stared back at him.

"Three years of lies, Castiel. One large problem after another.” He tilted his head back and looked at the sky. "And all of them had one common factor.” His eyes dropped back, narrowing a little in thought. "You. What is it about you that God needs to include in all his mysterious works?”

Not answering, the angel in the overcoat stood up and put a few dollar bills down for his coffee.

"I had hoped you could answer that. But you never have any real answers.” Castiel tucked his chair in and turned to go. But the Metatron cleared his throat to stop him.

"I did what I thought was best, Castiel, at the time. Not just out of vengeance but because I wanted to make you all see. How are we that different?” he asked, the cup clattering on its tiny plate. Castiel turned back towards him, staring down the length of his nose like the arrogant soldier he had once been.

"I did what I did out of love. You did what you did out of spite,” he answered. "There is a great difference. It took me a long time to learn it.”

With a flutter he was gone and Marv made a face. 

"Self-righteous prick,” he spat out, setting down his cup and getting up. Well aware of the sensation of being watched, he walked out of the patio, trying to appear human. Trying to appear normal.

The angels watching him set down close and began to follow at a discreet distance.

Standing in the park across the street, Castiel tucked his hands into his pockets and watched as the angels who had been looking for him were distracted by the presence of the Metatron. Whatever sins he had committed, the Metatron’s were still fresh in the angels minds. They wanted him and they wanted their answers and their revenge.

Which meant he would be left alone, for a least a little while, and he could go back to where he wanted to be. 

~~~

Kevin had dreamed so much in the past few months. Of demons, angels, monsters. Gods and monsters.

He hated them all so much in those moments.

His mind was so full of prophecy and outcomes and he was tired. Exhausted to the core. Some days he would wake up in a bus station, screaming; other times he would work for days without sleep until he finally dropped. Travelling had helped him learn to work off the nightmares and prophecies. The only reason he had come back to his mother’s house was because he was needed there. 

He had to witness… something. Kevin just wasn’t sure what it was. He had dreamed something terrible. 

_Hot breath, screams and the sound of blood and flesh meeting._

But instead of telling anyone, Kevin simply smiled and acted normal. As normal as he could be now. He went around the house, let his mom treat him like a child, and he pretended. 

Pretended that he didn’t have visions that frightened him and heard voices whispering to him of what had to be done to save them all.

~~

The werewolf pack stared at the body they had dragged into their territory within Purgatory. Bringing _her_  back here had been the longest trek any had made. The demons nipping at their heels had slowed them down. The crawl of bodies in the Pit sickening to even them and they had wanted to stay and fight. 

But they had their prize and they could afford to retreat.

It was the alphas and purebloods of every race that moved forward to meet them. Normally ravenous and enemies of each other, in Purgatory their hungers had slow abated to become more conniving. The ones here had been trying to escape for years, hunting those who knew how. But there was one good way to get back from the doors of Purgatory if no human was available.

And they had their orders to find her.

A Shifter in the form of a child moved forward and slid back into its adult form. “You brought her.”

"Father will be pleased,” a vampire hissed in obvious pleasure.

"Aren’t they always?” a werewolf snarled.

"The demons?”

"Blind. Their one leader is more set in saving his own skin than to see what is before him. Which is how we like it, as I recall.” The werewolf shifted a little, face back to that of a petite woman, and cast a quick eye over the clearing. "Any news?”

"Those in on the plan have their orders, and the others are still warring hopelessly in Hell in that loss cause. With her at our side once again, we can find a way to escape. Through Hell if we have to.”

"The demons don’t really escape that easily. They have to fight their way out of the Pit first,” the werewolf grumbled and the vampire shrugged.

"What we need to do will be gladly borne for the chance at freedom. He will come back soon and revive her.”

Growling in pleasure, the vampires, Shifters, and werewolves began to slowly put the dismembered corpse back together. Whenever her joints met with the flesh, the flesh wrapped around the bone and reconnected itself. Each heavy bag containing her body parts squirmed on its own, as if eager to be put back together like a sickening puzzle.

They were operating in near secrecy now; the sects of monsters devout to their ‘mother’ and the chance for freedom to the other world they’d been killed in. They needed the secrecy. It would be so easy for this plan to fall apart. 

No one was allowed to cross the river to see what was happening.

Sitting on the shoreline under a cover of trees and sucking on a tiny sliver of wood, a lone vampire in a battle-torn cap and coat wondered what they were up to. 

~~

Squinting into the bar’s windows, Meg tapped roughly on the glass and called out Josh’s name. “Hey! Come on, you owe me two hundred bucks!” she shouted through the window. She could hear some music but not actually see him through the smoky windows. The doors were tightly locked and she hadn’t been able to budge them. “I know you’re in there!” 

_Bastard._

Punching her fist against the door, she shoved back and headed back down the street, determined to try again tomorrow. She needed that money. The slow buildup in her stash, her ‘nest egg’, meant that sooner or later she and Nyx could actually leave this town and she could go find that place that called to her in her dreams. It was drawing her to it. Water, sandy beaches, some place actually warm.

But she needed every penny she could get her hands on because she didn’t want to have to cheat and steal the entire time. That took too much work and someone would catch her eventually. She knew she had to keep herself safe though why that thought stayed with her, she wasn’t sure. 

Still cursing under her breath, she paused to dislodge a piece of stone from inside her boot and was bumped by someone walking around her just as she unlaced. He paused and turned, half a step, smiling at her as he watched her shake her boot upside-down.

"Sorry, didn’t see you there,” he said, his youngish face almost distorted by the strange light in his eyes. Still crouched, Meg looked up at him as she relaced her boot and he gave her a white toothed smile that was predatory.

"No problem,” she answered. For a second, his face flared bright white and then shadowed. It made her stare harder, curious as to why it seemed like something dark and twisted lay just under the surface of his skin. He grinned, nodded, and walked away, whistling an old rock song as he went.  Meg frowned before she tugged her jean leg back down and stood up.

When she turned, digging into her back pocket for her keys and her emergency smokes, she banged into someone else.

"Son of a bitch, does no one watch where they are going?” she snapped, as she  pushed her hair out of her eyes. Glancing up into a pair of blue eyes, she blinked and stepped back a bit when she recognized him.

"Sorry. I… I was…”

"Stalker boy. You still hanging around?” she asked, tilting her head on the side and eyeing him. She shook her pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, making sure to watch his reaction. What was his name? Cassie? Castie? Something weird.

He gave a half smile that looked nervous and yet earnest. “I had a few things to look at around this town. I decided to stay.”

"Like what? Or are you saying you want to take a dip in the springs a few miles up?” she asked as she walked around him. He fell into step beside her and Meg shouldered her bag a bit higher, feeling the need to protect herself from him.

"While I’m sure those are pleasant, in my experience hot springs tend to be very crowded.”

As she lit up her cigarette, Meg eyed him and wove her way through the people walking on the side walk. Strange. It felt like the world was watching her walking with this strange man. Not to mention…

_How did you tell someone you were sure you had seen their face before in a dream without sound like an insipid girl trying to flirt?_

“Are you looking for company?” she asked after taking a deep drag. She didn’t need it often but she used it to calm her nerves sometimes. It was an old habit that she thought she must have had once. There was something in the taste that reminded her of something, something vague and bitter.

He smiled again. “Not especially. We’re headed in the same direction.”

Meg nodded and then turned, stopping mid-stride. “What’s your name again?”

He paused and seemed to think about it. “Novak.”

"Yah-huh.” Meg crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him. He’d taken too long to answer so she didn’t buy it. She took a short puff and then looked him up and down. "Look, if you think I’m easy because I work at the bar or because you think…”

"I was just walking with you,” he cut in. "I didn’t have anything else in mind.”

Meg’s grin turned wicked. “That’s a shame.”

Castiel blinked, not expecting that. Meg waited to see if he would rise to the flirting but he simply shook his head. His eyes went to the cigarette and she looked at it too before flicking a bit of ash away. 

"Bad habit, I know.” Taking another long drag, she let the smoke out in a stream and stubbed the cigarette out on the brick wall. "I only do it when I’m feeling stressed or if my daughter isn’t around.”

"It isn’t good for you,” he agreed and she laughed.

"Nothing fun ever is.” Pushing her hair out of her eyes again, she took a few steps to the left and watched him mirror her before she leaned against the wall. "You just want to hang out with me or something?”

"I was hoping you could tell me if De… Henry was still in town. He had some information for me.”

"Oh yeah, staying with Linda at her place.” Leaning back, she jutted one hip out to look relaxed. Still he was staring at her. "Anyone ever tell you how creepy that is? The staring?”

"Repeatedly,” he said and didn’t continue. When Meg arched an eyebrow at him, he looked away. "Your memory. Do you mind me asking what happened to you?”

"Not really any of your business but I was told it was a car accident. Nyx and I were lucky to be alive. Woke up here. Only had my girl. Was lucky Linda took us in.” Her dark-lined eyes narrowed at him. "Why?”

"Just curious. I had a friend with a similar memory problem a long time ago. He woke up… eventually. Saw things differently and realized what life could be like.”

"Lucky stiff. Me? I just struggle through.” Meg moved away from the wall and stepped into him, causing Castiel to stiffen up and nervously sway a little. Her head tilted back a bit so she could look right up at him and Castiel looked down into her brown eyes "But what do you want?”

Castiel debated on answering with what he really thought but he wisely kept to the disguise of a tourist.

"Just…” He swallowed audibly as his breathing deepened. All the time cursing himself for being surprised that even now she could cause a reaction in him. He should be more in control, he reminded himself. "I was making conversation.”

"If you’re trying to pick me up, next time try the weather. What I like to drink. Or how great I look in tight jeans. Memory talk? Not so sexy.” She picked up the pace again and he immediately walked beside her down the street to the small grocery store. A group of teenagers coming up the sidewalk made no intention of moving out of the way for them and he shouldered around her a bit, slowing so his body spun tight against hers. Meg let him protect her from being bumped though it made her grin at how silly it seemed. It brought them closer than they had been before and something prickled over her skin as his breath brushed the side of her neck.

 _It felt familiar_.

Shaking herself, Meg continued walking and he kept up. “You like this place?”

"Can’t say I know any difference between here or somewhere else.” She never told anyone that she felt there was something wrong about this place. It wasn’t home. Just a place. She looked over her shoulder at him and spun mid-step, walking backwards with the sort of flawless grace she had always had. "Why are you following me?”

He smiled. “I still don’t know really. Even after all this time.”

Confused, she gave him a tilt of her head and continued to walk backwards. At the way her eyes went over him, Castiel stared back thoughtfully.

"What?”

"Not sure.” Meg bit into her lower lip. "There’s something strange about you.”

He half-smiled. “I get that a lot.”

Once she came up next to the Cougar parked in front of the store, Meg leaned back against it. As if unable to help the forward momentum, he stopped mere inches away and stared down at her. For a second, she had to wonder what he would look like if there were flames around them. Not even sure where that thought came from, she shoved it down and bit into her lower lip again. She was sure she’d seen him somewhere before and it actually hurt to try to focus on those hazy memories.

Damn, it was starting to nag at her and he had helped her the day before. She knew his face. Maybe if she played nice, like Linda was always telling her to, something would trigger her memory if she stayed in his company.

"I don’t often do this but do you need a lift to see them? I didn’t see you drive into town.” As if worried he would get the wrong idea, she made sure to look like she was bored. "I mean, don’t get me wrong. You try a thing and I’ll beat the shit out of you. But it’s a long walk and you did help me with those jerks at the bar.”

Unexpected as that was, Castiel knew he had to say no to her offer. The more time he spent in her company, the deeper the crack in her disguise would go. The worse it would get and the likelier it was that something would split. Everything would go wrong so fast and he…

"I’d like that,” he said before he could stop himself.

 

~~

Booking a few rooms for the week, Dean and Sam had set about looking like tourists again. Trying to relax and failing miserably. They painted wards, put hex-bags in the walls, set out traps in the distant woods. Avoided Meg and her daughter, kept their heads low. They had even waited today until Meg was gone in her old car before they moved out from their rooms to get some work done. 

The entire time, Sam could feel like there was something coming. Like a brush of shadow up against the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure what it was. He hadn’t felt that way in years. Not since…

Not since he’d let go of the demons blood had he felt such a strange surge in his buried psychic side.

Dean said nothing but he knew he felt it too. The small town was now just  _too_  quiet. 

Getting Linda Tran alone wasn’t easy. She kept out of their way, made sure Meg and Nyx stayed away to the back of the house where she’d given them rooms. Even Kevin made a pretty studied attempt to never be around when they were in the house. No one wanted to talk to them.

Which was making Dean grumpier and grumpier as the hours and days passed.

It was Wednesday afternoon  when the Winchesters came in from the woods, dirty and tired from circling the perimeter and found Linda waiting for them. The house had been empty earlier when they had left but now her car was parked out front and she looked like she wasn’t in any hurry to leave. She was on her front porch with her laptop, curled into a big chair and crunching numbers as she always did, and when they came up the steps she barely looked up from the screen.

"You’re tracking mud in. Shoes off if you’re coming up here,” she threatened while pointing her finger at them. Rolling his eyes, Dean toed off his combat boots and jerked his chin at Sam. His brother sat down on the steps instead and looked out.

"Where’s Kevin?”

"Meg had to go in town for some reason and hasn’t come home yet. He’s taking care of Nyx for her.” Looking up from her laptop, she squinted out at the afternoon sun. "See?”

Sam looked over his shoulder to see Kevin and Nyx making their slow way across the front yard. Nyx was jumping in the puddles left from when Dean had washed the Impala. For a minute, Kevin actually looked years younger as he played with her and tried to keep her from soaking herself. 

"Nyxie, come on, stop that.”

"Rain rain rain!” Nyx was chanting happily as she splashed him. Dean couldn’t help but smile as she got Kevin with a splatter of mud on his face. The little girl screeched with laughter as he snatched her up and dangled her upside down, threatening to drop her in the puddle. Her polka-dotted rain boots kicked in the air as she fought against him.

Sometimes he forgot how young Kevin still was.

Sam, on the other hand, looked up as the first drops of rain started to hit. It had been sunny a moment ago and now suddenly it was overcast. Wiping a raindrop off his forehead, he looked back down at Nyx curiously.

"You’ve been avoiding us,” Dean said to Linda. He saw Kevin whirl Nyx away and set her down. She gave him a kick in the shin and took off, hiding behind the Impala. Sam was smiling as he watched them. Almost wistfully, Dean thought.

"Yeah, well, when you two come around,” Linda answered, "people tend to die.”

"You’re still alive, aren’t you?” The sarcasm edging both their voices was almost playful and Sam rolled his eyes at them. He looked at them instead and Linda made note of something before speaking again.

"Have you two found anything out there or in town?”

"Nothing. Not a hint of demons or monsters. It’s like this place isn’t even on their marker,” he explained for Dean. Leaning back against the railing, he wiped his muddy hands on his jeans. "Which makes next to no sense. Garth told us the monsters have been out in droves in other parts of the States and Canada.”

"Yeah well, maybe something is keeping them away,” Dean looked out at Nyx, "or someone.”

"You think a three year old is keeping monsters away?” Linda gave him a skeptical glare. "She’s three, Dean, almost four. A child.”

"She’s not a normal kid. I’m sure you’ve noticed  something about her,” Dean countered.

"I know you’re expecting me to say she’s different. But there’s not much strange about her," Linda commented with a shrug. "She seems human enough."

"She’s Cas’ daughter, Meg’s daughter. That’s two big supernatural elements, Linda, something has to be different," Sam pointed out and Dean nodded, one eye on where he could see Kevin with Nyx in the front yard. They had crossed a bit further down the driveway to where Linda’s car was parked. She was still playing hide and seek with him and Kevin was obviously getting tired of the game, leaning down on the hood of the car to wait for her.

"There has to be something."

"There’s nothing. I read all those stories about Cambions Sam was sending me. She’s nothing like them that I can tell. She’s inherently good. She’s just a child to herself and the rest of the world. If she has any sort of power, it is nothing I can tell.” Linda twisted her fingers into nervous knots. "I just… maybe it is because of Castiel’s spell on Meg. Maybe it had an aftereffect on Nyx."

"That still doesn’t sound right. Cas even admitted before she was born she was strong enough to knock him out. I mean, Dean said that when Meg was carrying her she threw Lucifer to the other side of the world when he tried to kill them, and she did some pretty big damage. Why would that end just after she was born?"

"Maybe she needs them both as they were. I don’t know." She closed her laptop and sat back in her chair. "I just worry about her. She’s a sweet girl and if I can help keep her from realizing how messed up the world is she was born to, I will.”

"So Castiel could be what drives her to go full on hybrid baby?" Dean asked dryly but Linda nodded as if that made sense.

"That actually makes more sense than what was thinking.” She tapped her fingers on the closed case. "I worry about her but Meg worries me more. Something is starting to break in her. She’s looking ready to run.”

"That’s not as strange as it could be,” Sam said.

"I hate to point it out to both of you,” Linda snapped, obviously not in the mood. "But if Meg takes Nyx and runs, what are the chances we can find her before the demons or angels?”

Both Winchesters looked down at their feet, chastised. Linda shook her head, annoyed with them yet again. She had done her best and they were so eager to find something, anything, that they could cause bigger problems. Ones with worse consequences.

As if answering the question for them, a low howl suddenly sang through the air. A faint sound that echoed around the nearby fields and Linda frowned. “We don’t have wolves… or coyotes even. Must be those feral dogs I saw around here one time.”

But Sam and Dean recognized that howl with the sort of horror of battle-weary soldiers. It sent chills up their spines and made them both flashback to other times; when Dean had been ripped apart by one, when Sam had nearly lost his life fighting one off. Even sight unseen, it was still enough to make them slip from brothers to soldiers in a heartbeat. 

"You have to be kidding me,” Dean whispered, standing up and forgetting he had no shoes on as he raced down the steps. He searched in his pockets, trying to find his keys as he ran for the Impala.

"What? What’s going on?” Linda asked as the howl roared through the air again, like a wolf coming close on its hunt. But even she knew it wasn’t a wolfish sort of howl. It was too loud, too rattling. Nothing from this earth made that sound.

"We got a problem, that’s what is going on.” Sam ran into the house and grabbed the shot gun he knew she kept tucked behind the fridge. Grabbing the box of ammo from the cabinet, he quickly ran out of the house, jumped over the railing and headed for the car. Dean was rummaging through the trunk, tossing things out to find what he needed. 

"We still got ‘em?” Sam asked as he traded the shotgun ammo for salt rounds. The gun was old but it would work for now and he loaded it up with skilled ease.

Dean grinned and tossed him a pair of safety glasses. “You called me a pack rat for keeping these things.”

"Shut it.” Sam put them on and spun on his heel, gun raised to his shoulder as he walked towards the other side of the house. The Holy Fire they had been seared with still seemed to be working as the world around him changed in colours and scope. Searching the trees edge, he scanned it with a careful eye for anything unusual but there was nothing in the brush. 

"Got a car coming up,” Dean called out as he turned a circle opposite Sam. Right now, to them any newcomer could be a threat.

"It’s Meg,” Linda called out. "I recognize the car.”

"Meg… where’s Nyx!” Sam shouted back, realizing that in the time that he had taken to get the shotgun the child was out of sight. Dean turned his head and signalled to the left, still keeping one eye on the perimeter close by where the howling had come from. He backed towards the car coming up the driveway as Sam sprinted around the yard to where Nyx and Kevin were still near Linda’s car parked on the side of the driveway leading to the road.

If he was shocked to see Castiel in the passenger seat, Dean hid it well. He continued to back up even when Meg stepped out of the car and gave him a skeptical look.

"You guys playing nerd paintball or somethin’?” she asked. Reminding himself to be insulted later, Dean shook his head. 

"We got wild dogs around here.”

"Dogs?” She rolled her eyes. "Right.”

She walked away from him before he could stop her, moving towards the porch, and he felt Castiel step close. “What the hell are you doing back here?” he hissed, scanning the trees.

"I…”

"Explain later. Dogs, Castiel.”

"Dogs means that you wear glasses and use a shotgun?”

Dean gave him a frustrated look. “Big. Big. Hounds. Castiel.” He enunciated each word slowly. The angel’s easy going posture stiffened and he quickly looked around though he was no better at finding them if his desperate look was any sign.

"You mean to say…”

"Yeah. Looks like something’s been set loose. Hopefully we can kill the bitch before it runs back to master or causes problems.”

"Hopefully,” Castiel agreed and his angel sword slid out to his hand.

The howling had stopped but as Dean turned, he noticed Sam backing towards them, waving Kevin to carry Nyx back towards the house. The little girl was unmindful of the tension, talking to him as they crossed the yard. Standing back to back with Castiel, Dean focussed on where he’d last heard the howling. The brush several hundred yards away was shaking rapidly and he licked his lips, finger caressing the trigger of his shotgun. Squinting through the purplish shimmer of the glasses, he waited.

"Come on, ugly.”

The shaking stopped and a deer leapt out from the bushes. It paused, staring at them warily and he lowered his gun a little. “You gotta be kidding me,” he whispered, nudging Castiel to look and even Sam looked frustrated as he went around the other side of the Cougar to see what had been making the noise. The angel glanced and frowned.

"But where’s the…”

Something swept in, bringing with it the stench of sulphur and coppery decay and Sam flew to the side, bulldozed by the sheer weight and strength of it. As he rolled, the demon knife he’d been holding in his other hand flew to the side as well and he raised his shotgun, firing off a round blindly. He heard the beast screech and his head was smacked by a tail.

"Sam!” Dean shouted, sprinting for him as whatever had attacked him sprang off, just letting him see the strange colours shine off its hide. Castiel turned and was smacked into from the other side, sending him toppling into the Impala and he hissed in pain as he rolled to protect himself.

The loud snarling close to his ear made him wince as fetid breath poured over his skin, so hot that he felt sweat break out on his forehead in reaction. There were two, he registered, as something else breathed against the other side of his neck. Squeezing his eyes shut, he swiped out blindly with his sword and felt it sink in a little. The hellhound shrieked in pain and the first sank its teeth into his hand, the blade being shook from his grip before he could stop it. It stayed curved in the back of one but he couldn’t grab it to force it deeper. Two paws dug into his chest and tore down, his coat protecting him from too much damage.

A child’s scream made him open his eyes to see Kevin and Nyx in the yard, still trying to get to the house but now caught in the middle. The hold on his hand lessened and he heard Meg shouting something but the drumming in his ears wouldn’t lessen so he could hear her; the blood in his body pounded through him as adrenaline tried to keep him alive. The teeth that had punctured his skin let go completely and he turned his head to see great gouts in the gravel being thrown up as the animals charged forward. 

 “ _Nyx!”_

The sound of Meg’s shouting was suddenly clear and he got to his feet, hearing Dean blasting off his shotgun. But whatever damage it did to the hellhounds was nothing as they raced forward, leaving gouges in the dirt. Kevin swung Nyx around behind him to protect her from what he knew was coming  but he was grabbed by the leg and thrown to the side like a rag doll. They weren’t after him. He rolled and slammed into the porch, head striking the corner of the steps. The hounds twisted and forgot him instantly as they stared at who he had been protecting.

"Kevin!” Linda was starting down the stairs, not caring about the danger. But Castiel could only see Nyx, see her standing frozen in fear.

She was staring wide eyed.

She could  _see_  the creatures.

"Nyx!” he shouted, scrambling to get to his feet and the little girl turned to look at him. Something flashed in her face, like recognition when he called her name and he saw her eyes wide and terrified. She wasn’t screaming but she was so afraid she was quivering. Her stuffed toy was lying untouched and soaked in mud. She continued to back up to where Linda was, the older woman calling for her to run. Then the gouts in the earth dug deeper and the beasts charged forward in unison. Like a matched set they were running for their prey and Nyx crouched down into a tiny ball as if to hide from them.

No matter his speed, Castiel wasn’t sure he could get to her. His blade was gone, embedded in the back of one hellhound. He didn’t have anything he could use on hell-beasts.

 _No no no no no!_  

Everything in him screamed though he didn’t speak as he ran forward, Dean’s shotgun blasts covering him. Sam was firing as well but the salt-rounds and bullets weren’t having any effect on the hounds as they raced over the yard towards Nyx. Castiel reached for his Grace, wanting to stop time; something, anything to stop this from happening. But his Grace felt stuck, unable to be of use now when he needed it most. He called her name out again and prayed for help in the next breath.

Something faster than he was launched in front of his vision and tackled Nyx to the ground just as the hounds leapt. With a sickening crunch, four bodies went flying back into the rear of the Impala so that the trunk dented a little. Castiel stared, for a second so shocked he could only fall to his knees as his momentum left him.

The hellhounds continued to growl and roar at being put off their prey again.

Meg curled her body protectively around Nyx and rolled her beneath her heavier weight. She’d watched the whole scene as if stuck in some waking dream. It had been familiar. The hideous creatures, the howling, the sight of people fighting… she hadn’t been able to move a step off the porch. 

Until she had seen them go for Nyx.

That had woken her and she knew what she had to do. She hadn’t cared if she was killed and the creatures she could see were so terrible to behold that she knew they could kill her easily. But Nyx was clutching hold of her, sobbing at the pain of the impact, and she knew she had to protect her.

"It’s ok,” Meg said under the howls and snarls of the hounds as they clawed at her to try to get to Nyx. "I got you.”

The little girl was starting to scream in fear and Meg closed her eyes. “Under the car, Nyxie. Stay there. I’ll protect you.”

Before the hounds could snap at the child, Nyx was shoved under the car for safety and Meg felt herself dragged away by the heavier of the hounds. What she saw was different from what the others would see. To her these were as real as the wild dogs or coyotes. But far more terrifying than any nightmare she could have had. Glowing eyes focussed down on her as rigid spines on the back rose in fury. The one straddling her perked its tiny bat ears a little, as if recognizing her, and then it snarled and its teeth swiped down.

Going on instinct, she slammed her fist up into the gaping jaws and shoved her arm into its throat. It shrieked at the unexpected blow and Meg screamed back at it, knee lifting and catching in its side. Her hand wrapped around its forked tongue and yanked hard, tearing at the appendage.

"Ugly bitch,” she shouted and heard a shotgun blast. It hit the hound close to where her leg was and the second one that had been digging to try to get to Nyx took off running, giving up the hunt. But the one straddling Meg was clawing at her, trying to get her to let go of its tongue.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the men coming up but the hound’s viciousness was verging on blind fury now. It wanted its prey and it wanted her dead.

A glint of metal spiked up from its back made Meg cling closer to it, stretching her finger tips up. But it was just out of reach, wedged there by the bunched sinewy muscle of the beast. “Come on,” she whispered as the hellhound’s claws sank into her shoulder and ripped deeply. She yanked her other hand out of its mouth and tried to keep it from ripping further into her softer body. The pain shrieking through her arm was ignored and she slammed her fist into its shoulder to get it to fall ontop of her again. 

She could hear Nyx’s terrified sobs and that kept her from letting go.

Impossibly, as she focussed on the blade and imagined it coming to her, it wiggled free of the massive back it was buried into.  The hilt of it dropped into her waiting fingers and she twisted it around just as the large jaws widened and dropped to snap at her throat. She sank the tip into the glowing eye and the hound screamed and whined at the pain, backing off but not letting her go. It half dragged her with it and Meg saw the men still shooting at it though it did them no good. Woman and beast were too tightly entwined for anyone to get between them. 

Meg felt a strange calm come over her as she felt the sticky blood pour on her hands. Switching the blade around, she slashed down and the hound screamed again. She panted for breath and swung again, this time catching it in its vulnerable throat. The blade caught this time and using what strength she had left in her wounded arm, she yanked hard, slicing the beast from throat to its torso.

The sword sank deep into its heart and with a satisfying squelch it tore into the beating muscle. The hound stopped growling instantly and Meg heard its loud whine as she twisted to the left and split the heart in half. It took moments but the hound scrambled for what last bit of life it could find before its glowing eyes dimmed completely. With a loud defeated groan, the glowing eyes closed. It heaved before it lay sprawled atop her, still pumping out disgustingly black blood onto her body but now dead.

Meg’s head sagged back on the blood-soaked gravel and she dizzily looked around. Still hiding under the car, Nyx was staring back at her, shaking in her fear and reaching out towards her with one hand. Meg stared back at her and smiled. “It’s ok,” she whispered and her head dropped to the side, eyes fluttering as she fell unconscious.

~~

The hound that escaped raced the short distance back to its masters, spattered in blood and mud. The Crossroad demon sighed and squatted, patting its head. “Good dog.”

It snapped tiredly at her hand and looked up at the man still standing.

"It went against orders,” he said calmly.

"It saw an opportunity,” Louise whispered and he shook his head.

"This is what passes for hellhound breeding. Disgusting. I wanted them alive. They were sent to scout and frighten. Not let them know someone was coming for them.” He smiled. "But it did find her.” 

An angel sword appeared in his hand and without any warning he sunk it deep into the top of the hellhound’s skull. The beast fell immediately and without any sign of emotion, he wrenched it back out and wiped it clean on his arm.

"I have work to do, it seems.”

~~

Castiel had stood in shock, not sure what he could or should do. He had been able to use his Grace to keep the hellhounds from toppling the car over, the weight of it stronger than them, but he hadn’t been able to help like he could have. Meg had been so tightly wrapped around the hound she was fighting that to interfere meant he could kill her accidentally. He’d had to wait and he had watched and felt hopeless.

And she’d nearly died because of him.

"Cas, get over here!” Dean snapped from where he and Sam were trying to pull the hellhound off Meg. Shaking himself, the angel started forward, sparing a look for where Linda was helping Kevin stand, his injured leg oozing blood from its wounds. The prophet was staring at Meg and the car, wide eyed in pain.

But he didn’t look shocked or afraid, like Sam and Dean.

Storing that away for further thought, he knelt down to help Dean with the dead beast. Its claws were half-embedded in Meg’s leg, judging by the pressure still dragging on the wounds, and to just yank it off would cause more damage to her. Damage he didn’t think he could risk healing. Not yet. Gingerly, he set about slowly taking each claw from her flesh with precise care.

If Dean noticed how he stroked a strip of uninjured flesh on her hand, he didn’t say a word.

Sam crouched down low and peered under the car at the little girl hiding beneath it. The ground smelled disgusting from the hellhound blood and sulphur, but he managed to grin and bear it. She hadn’t moved since Meg had collapsed and he had to get her out any way that he could.

"Hey there,” he said, remembering to sound calm when all he wanted to do was curse up a storm as his hand dipped into a pile of black goo.

She lifted her head a little from the shelter of her arms and stared at him from large blue eyes. Her cheek was bruised and her arm scratched, but she looked more frightened than hurt. 

"Remember me? I’ve been here before,” he asked as he lay on his side. She nodded and he tried to get comfortable as he half wedged himself under the Impala close to her. Surprised he could fit, he tried to smile and not hit his head on the belly of the car. "Gonna come out?”

She shook her head and he saw her eyes go behind him. Sam didn’t look away from her face but he knew what she was looking at.

"It’s ok. Your mom killed it. She saved you.”

Nyx’s dark hair was matted around her face when she gave him a distrusting look. “Scared.”

He only smiled. “Me too, kid. But you can’t hide forever. We got to get your mom into the house but we can’t leave you out here.”

Nyx watched his hand stretch out between them as if she expected him to hurt her. She scrambled a little back.

"I promise, we’ll protect you,” he swore and he saw her eyes focus on his face. For a second, he was reminded of Castiel with the wariness she looked at him with. As if she was making a big decision for her. "Nothing is gonna hurt you with me around.”

That seemed to convince her and she reached out to take his hand. Smiling, he helped her scramble out from underneath the car, both of them now soaked in mud and smelling of hellhound blood. Still crouching down in front of her, Sam checked her scraped knees and hands but found nothing too bad. She turned her hands over for him to see the scrapes and Sam shook his head, gently brushing the gravel off so it didn’t hurt. 

Dean was still barefoot and his feet were cut up from the gravel on the ground, but he looked more concerned with getting everyone in order than worrying about shoes. Everyone bore some sort of mark from the hellhounds but no one looked as badly roughed up as Meg. Sam looked at him, and then at the house before turning back to Nyx.

"You okay?” She nodded, her eyes still large and her lower lip trembling. He gave her a half smile as he stood up, staring down at her and feeling like a giant. "You were very brave. I would have run when I was little.”

Before he could move, she took his hand and held on as if for him to protect her and Sam smiled again. He wasn’t that easy around kids sometimes, Dean took to it better than he did, but she was being brave. Letting her hold onto him, he turned to see Dean carefully picking up Meg while Castiel handled the hellhound, folding its legs close to its body. 

A tiny squeeze made him look down to see Nyx staring wide-eyed at the corpse. She looked up at him and he realized that she could see it. Deciding to pretend he could as well, he frowned and shook his finger at the dog.

"Bad dog,” he said and she hesitantly nodded along with him. 

"Bad dog,” she parroted and reached out to kick it. Her boot made the thing’s bloody side squelch and she cried out as the dead hound rolled a little towards her, hiding behind him. Sam grinned, patting the top of her head, and looked up to see Castiel staring at her from where he knelt beside the hound. An odd mixture of hurt and fear was on his face, but when he looked up at Sam he smiled thankfully at him.

For a moment, Sam nearly felt bad for the angel. He obviously wanted to comfort his daughter but he couldn’t risk it.

But that had been his choice and that kept Sam from being too easy on him. Instead, he focussed on Nyx and noticed how gingerly she was walking. As if she was afraid the hound was going to come to life and bite her.

"You want me to carry you?” he asked Nyx and the little girl nodded, holding up her arms. She held on tight as he lifted her up and let her sit on his hip. There was such a human fear in her that Sam let himself hug her back a bit. He could remember holding her as a baby once, and how protective both Dean and him had been of her though they weren’t even her parents. Now he felt that old protectiveness surging right back. This little girl had seen something no child should ever see.

"You’re tall,” she blurted out, looking down at the ground if she was at a great height. With childish innocence, she was trying to make herself feel better and Sam knew she was doing it to try to forget about Meg.

"Yep. I’m a giant.”

Her blue eyes went to his face. “You’re a giant!”

Sam chuckled and was surprised how easy it was after what had just happened.

He followed Dean into the house and noticed Castiel disappearing to the back, still dragging the hellhound. Likely to perform an angelic autopsy if he knew him. Linda helped Kevin limp into the house and once they were inside, Sam set Nyx on his hip and quickly drew a small demon ward on the side of the door with his own blood. What good it would do he didn’t know; but he had to do something.

Nyx watched and didn’t say a word but he had the feeling she knew what he was doing. There was an eerie watchfulness about her right now, something that reminded him of Lilith in a vague way. But she lacked that evil air. She was simply knowing that something was different.

"You want to see your mom?” he asked instead and she nodded, looking over his shoulder to the front window. He followed her gaze and saw that she was watching Castiel continue to drag the hellhound around the side of the house.

~~

Furious with himself and whoever had set it loose, Castiel let the hellhound burn. No burial, not even bothering to hide it. He took it out to the woods and scorched its body with his own Grace. Smoke and fire leapt to the sky and he felt nothing but hatred for it.

Naturally, that attracted attention.

"Really, a light show, at this time of day?”

Crowley’s voice should have made him turn to put on the defence but there was no reaction from the angel. He simply stared at the smouldering body and waited until the demon stood next to him. Crowley blinked at the sight of the beast.

"I thought a hellhound was up here.” He leaned close. "Not one of my breeding pack I hope. Very…” he sniffed it, "rotted.”

"One of your demons is unleashing hellhounds and you aren’t aware of it.”

"Correction, sweetums, before you get your wires crossed. I’m not King of Hell anymore; I’m the King of the Crossroads. I don’t have much control over them these days. Beyond the odd deal here and there and the necessary ‘my gonads are bigger than yours’ show and tell, that sort of thing.” He leaned back. "But I did hear rumour of one of my star deal makers going missing. Which begs two questions.”

Crowley stepped around in front of him so that the angel had to focus on him instead of staring at the hound. “Why did she come up here? And who called her? Naturally, the why concerns me far more at the moment.”

"I don’t care about either. This thing attacked the Winchesters,” Castiel lied easily and Crowley shrugged.

"Can you blame it? They killed how many over the years? Maybe the beasts are becoming family oriented after all though for your sake I would hope that they don’t start running in bigger packs more often.” He tapped his bearded cheek. "Unless…. unless it found something. Or had been sent to find something. You see, I have been far too busy with matters of Hell and survival to bother, but it is possible a demon took initiative.” He grinned. "That does tend to get promotions with me, though Abaddon executes them in the end.”

"If I find that you are setting hellhounds loose on the Winchesters or their friends,” Castiel began and Crowley scoffed.

"You’ll what?”

"I’ll make you wish I was no longer an angel.”

Their gazes met, clashed, and Crowley looked away first. “I came to warn you. Monsters are on the move. In exchange for some… information, they took their Mother back to Purgatory.”

Castiel caught him by the throat and launched them across the woods until he had the demon pinned to a tree. Crowley squeaked and fought against the tight hold.

"No need for such foreplay, darling.”

"You let their Mother go with them, knowing the damage they could do.”

"Trapped in Purgatory, none of them can get out without a human soul or someone with the power and the know-how anyway. Even if they get into Hell… we’ll be golden.” Crowley choked as Castiel tightened his grip.

"The only reason why I’ve let you live this long is because you were either of use or because I could never catch you. Go and leash all of your hounds. If I see you near the Winchesters, I’ll do what I should have done years ago.”

"Yeah,” Crowley’s eyes clicked to red. "What’s that?”

"I’ll tie you up and let your dogs tear you apart. Slow.”

The demon stared at him at the threat. “What got up your arse?”

"Do you understand me?” Castiel shouted and for once Crowley lost his smarmy charm and casual grin. He nodded and Castiel let him go slowly. There was nothing of the quiet angel Crowley had manipulated once. As he stared up at him and stared under the human face, he knew he was looking at a soldier. 

It was almost terrifying even for a demon his age.

Castiel waited until he was sure Crowley was gone before he sagged back against the tree and rolled his eyes to the sky. He prayed for strength and received no answer. He hadn’t expected to. He knew he was on his own again in this matter.

~~

_She was in the presence of God. Not some false god but her God. He’d come to her in dreams, whispered to her of rewards if she gave him her faith, obedience and love. Let her feel fire if she chose to disobey and let her feel warmth if she obeyed. Shown her visions of Heaven that had soothed her of the pains of Hell. He had rewarded her for her service to Azazel by leading her to this beautiful girl who resembled, in a dark mirror sort of way, what she had resembled long ago; before the pain and torture had taken her from victim to warrior. A girl that maybe Azazel had known of, maybe not. She hadn’t fought her possession; she’d welcomed it._

_Damn it, she thought lovingly as she approached her god. She had caged the enemy and could almost feel their blood on her hands. Taste their fear._

_But as she rounded the corner, she caught a glimpse of something that glowed even brighter than the circle of flames._

_An angel._

_Disgustingly beautiful with what she could see just glowing off of him like some ridiculous halo he still wore, and she saw him as hideous because of it.  He lacked the cold, naked shadows of a demon, lacked any real crackle of wickedness that could attract her. So righteous she could smell it on him._

_The angel’s eyes fixed on her hatefully and she grinned back._

_All that righteousness was worth nothing. He would be nothing in the end. She would go to Heaven, learn what it was his God’s endless, hypocritical rules had kept her from. See his wings torn from him and his righteous glare turned to anguish._

**_What can you do, you impotent sap…_ **

_Then the dream distorted, just a little, and something changed as the fire that separated them dimmed a little. His form became clear. Strange because the angel and the man began to blend together thoroughly, though his face stayed blurred to her. As if it had been smudged about to unrecognizable lines and curves, with only his eyes and the curve to his mouth the most distinguishable parts of him. Those blue eyes softened and the look turned from hate to affection. Stupidly, all she could do was stare. A head tilt he had as he smiled at something she must have said was both absurd and engaging on a man of his meatsuit’s age._

**_"All that thorny pain… so beautiful…"_ **

_Suddenly, she knew that voice intimately, knew what he really was and that she should be disgusted by such light. But she wasn’t. Impossibly, she knew him. As if recognizing her as well, his shining Grace stretched out between them through the shadows. It twined around her and warmed her ice cold skin._

_With a twist, the darkness inside of her rubbed up against the Grace like a pet to a beloved owner, begging to feel the burn of his light. Knowing it as if it was part of her darkness. Making them shadows of each other. She had been cared for, healed… Marked by that light._

_It was why, no matter how strange her dreams had been before, this time she woke screaming._

"Calm down.”

The raspy voice kept Meg from jerking too fast out of bed and she opened her eyes to see herself surrounded. Her vision was blurry but she could recognize their outlines. Her bed was surrounded by people. There was a heady smell of sulphur in the air and she felt sticky and disgusting from sweat and tried blood. When she lifted her hand, she saw that her arm was bandaged from shoulder to wrist and her other hand was just as tightly bound. The ache that throbbed up her side made her remember what had happened. 

_The strange beast, the blood, the fear and anger._

Almost immediately as the memory hit her, she rolled to her side and threw up into the trash can someone had put by the side of the bed. 

A hand went over her back to soothe her and she trembled nervously under the touch.

"Easier to just let her get it all out. It’s just shock,” a voice instructed and she sucked in a deep breath, groping for her bedside table. The hand on her back passed her a glass of water and she clutched it thankfully. She drained the water greedily, letting it even dribble out of her mouth, to get rid of the rancid taste in her mouth before she rolled back over and met a pair of blue eyes.

Something about those eyes sparked a memory and made her ready to be sick again.

"We brought you up here. You had an episode, Linda says,” someone else said. Henry or whatever his name was. The man with green eyes. Everything in her memory felt so hazy now. She hurt so much.

"I… What was that thing?” she asked.

No one answered her and finally someone else said, “Wild dog.”

"Big wild dog,” Meg said sleepily.

"You need some rest,” was the only answer she got as her hand was patted over the gauze. "Take these. They’ll help with any pain.”

More pills, she registered even though she was ready to drop off again. For once, she felt like falling fast asleep and never waking up no matter the bad dream. Her body still felt so sore and exhausted as she sagged back on the pillows, her bound arms stiff but feeling empty. 

"Nyx?” she called out on instinct.

With a scuffle of sound, a familiar warm body suddenly leapt onto the bed beside her and tucked into her side. Meg felt her eyes drooping lower as the little girl wrapped herself around her, careful not to touch her injuries. Nyx tucked herself in tight and put her hand on Meg’s. Normally Meg tried to keep Nyx from sleeping in her bed unless she had permission but it felt good. 

Oddly, it felt like her presence was erasing the pain.

When the light clicked off, she knew they were alone and she let her eyes close so she could fall asleep again.

~~

Castiel closed the door on the sight of Meg and Nyx curled up on her bed, buried under comforters and lit up only by the few night-lights they had left on for the child. It had been so tempting to stay and watch over them, to let himself have a few moments. The terror of the past few hours, of watching Dean wrap up Meg’s wounds and waiting for her to show the slightest sign of waking up, had barely eased. He had felt her dreams; he didn’t know what they were about but as he had watched her face he had seen the slight crack that went through her body seem to actually deepen and grow more obvious to him. She had been distressed and though he didn’t know if she wanted him to stay there, he wanted to be here again. 

But there were more important things to worry about.

He followed them all to the first floor and waited patiently. Watched all of them and wondered that they were all still alive and whole. But his attention was slowly dragged to Kevin and he knew the prophet was hiding something when he downed two beers in a row, his injured leg propped up on another chair. Kevin always refused to be healed these days anyway and the way Castiel stared at him made him drink faster.

Linda finished helping Sam line the windows and doorways with salt before she realized that Castiel was staring at Kevin.

"Something wrong with his face?” she asked curiously and Kevin shrugged as if to tell her he didn’t know why Castiel was watching him. Sipping on a beer and cleaning his gun, Dean gave them both a look and waited.

"You knew something,” Castiel said instead of bothering to be polite. Kevin looked up at him and set his own bottle down.

"Me? About what? Hellhounds?”

"I watched you, Kevin. You were afraid but you weren’t surprised to see those hounds. I could read it in your face.” Castiel slowly crossed his arms over his chest and, from where he was sitting, Dean could see that he was furious.

"Why would I know anything?” Kevin whispered but there was something in his voice that drew Linda’s attention.

"Kevin, did you know?”

"I didn’t know anything!” he shouted.

Before he could get up and storm out, Castiel moved fast. In a blur, he was in front of Kevin, pinning him to the wall beside the stove. He ignored Dean’s protests and  Linda’s shouts of fury, even when her hand smacked him on the back. He focussed totally on Kevin and his gaze was sharp and knowing.

"What are you hiding, Kevin? How did you know?” he demanded lowly.

"Does it matter? It happened! We’re all alive!” Kevin shouted at him and Castiel lifted him close so their noses touched.

"Meg and Nyx were nearly killed!”

"That matters to you now?” The prophet’s voice was almost shrill and when Castiel slammed him into the wall he groaned in pain.

"I brought them here to protect them. Did you know? I won’t ask you again!” the angel yelled back at him. Something in his voice, and being faced with a furious angel, made Kevin almost fold up childishly.

"This is stupid, Castiel.” Linda smacked the back of his head again, ineffectively. "There is no way…”

"I knew.” 

Her son’s voice, quiet and grave, made her look at him incredulously. “Kevin?”

"I saw it. It was like a dream or a prophecy. It’s why I came home. I knew it was coming. I knew I had to be here but I didn’t know why exactly. I never saw what happened to lead into it. I simply kept dreaming it… I would see Nyx snatched or Meg ripped apart or….”

"Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked as he came into the room beside Dean. Both brothers abandoned their weapons, ready to act if they had to.

"I couldn’t.” He closed his eyes. "I dreamed it. I can’t tell people what I dream. I can’t.”

"Why?” Dean asked, confused.

"These are from God. I just know that if I tell people, the future changes. Or I’m killed. It’s my duty and my burden. I have to keep them to myself until He tells me otherwise, to try to help the future. Meg is a demon, it would take more than that to kill her! They are safe!”

Castiel released him just a little. “Meg’s body thinks of itself as a human. She is vulnerable to every human death possible unless her true self wakes up. If they had died, Kevin, I would have killed you. Slowly. I would forget I was sworn to protect you.”

The prophet’s eyes met his and he could see the strange orangey glow tinging the edges of the brown. The glow of a prophet.

"I would have let you. But I have to follow my mission, my duty. Didn’t you tell me that once?” he countered and Castiel shook his head. He looked disgusted with the prophet before he let him go completely and walked out of the room. Dean heard the flutter of cloth and knew that he had left them alone.

Though he suspected he wasn’t too far away.

Kevin nervously looked at them all but it was his mother’s stare that made him close his eyes and sink down onto his buttocks on the floor.

"Oh, Kevin.”

"They were ok. I can’t… I couldn’t tell you all because I didn’t even know if it was real!” He put his head in his hands and shook a little. "I have to bear this.”

Dean went to say something but Linda waved her hand to keep him quiet. Dean grabbed Sam instead and slowly pulled him out of the room to give the mother and son privacy. Knowing her as well as they did, both brothers knew Kevin would be handled as only a mother could.

"Kevin,” Linda started and then stopped herself. She crouched down in front of him. "I’m… I don’t know what to say.”

"I’m a prophet, Mom, that doesn’t make me responsible for the world,” he snapped, going to move but she reached out and kept him still.

"You took Nyx out to play, knowing a Hellhound was going to find you. Why would you do that?”

"It had to be done,” he whispered. "He told me it had to be.”

"Who?”

"God.” He looked feverish, wearing the sort of look of a fanatic touched by too much power. "He spoke to me. It has been years but he…”

"Sweetheart, I think you need to understand something so listen to me. That little girl adores you and she trusts you. You took her out with you to the yard, knowing it could happen. Knowing what was to come. Nyx could have been killed if Meg and the others weren’t there.” She shook her head and looked down at his hands as if she was picturing the blood there. "How could you live with yourself if you had known that could happen but didn’t tell anyone?”

He gave a humourless chuckle. “Come on, Mom, it… it ended well. Leave it at that.” It was when she sighed in an almost defeated way that he realized she wanted to say more. “What?”

"I just…” She stood up and folded her arms across her chest. "I don’t think I’ve ever been more disappointed in you, Kevin. I don’t think I even can see my son in you. You’re not the caring boy I knew, the one who would never see a child hurt. For anything.”

He blinked and stared as she walked out of the room, leaving him on the floor. Kevin rolled his eyes to the ceiling, where directly overhead Meg’s room was, and thought of trusting blue eyes and a child he almost thought of as family now. Three years ago, he would have fought God’s will. Now because of one small vision, one moment, he’d been willing to push that aside.

_God… why?_

Choking down a sob, he put his head on his knees and shook.

~~

It was wrong to stay here. Castiel could almost hear the arguments from all of them and they would be right. But after the attack of the hellhound, he couldn’t leave yet. Meg had actually seen the beast, which meant that more of the spell was cracking. Nyx had seen it as well, and the Lord knew what that meant for them all. The entire time, he realized how much fear he could feel for them, how powerless he had felt because he couldn’t act as he know he should, all for the sake of keeping Meg hidden in that spell. 

He knew what he had felt when watching Meg fight the hellhound to keep it off of Nyx. 

Pride and fear for her.

His demon. Always the protector even if she didn’t know it. He knew that Crowley had likely noticed his emotions were rubbed raw, would know that something was bothering him. But he had come back anyway.

He couldn’t leave without watching over them for a while.

Staying invisible was easy. He’d watched Dean and Sam leave, likely to check for more hellhounds and to get gas in town, waited for Linda to go to bed, and with a sort of grudging dislike he had watched Kevin slowly, steadily, drink himself into a stupor in the front room as he watched television. Like a steady shadow, Castiel had followed them all before going to where he wanted to be.

Finding Meg awake had been a surprise. Awake and awkwardly re-wrapping her wounds. His fingers had itched to touch her, to help her, but he had kept himself seated on the windowsill across from her. He’d stayed with her the entire time as she picked up the sleepy girl from her bed and took Nyx for a bath; waited as Meg scrubbed grime and hellhound blood off her skin until she was fresh and clean. 

The gentleness she had for Nyx was so strange, compared to the demon he remembered. The little girl had been so tired that Meg had cleaned her up and dressed her in pyjamas without any protests. Castiel knelt beside Meg, nothing more than a shadow sitting just beside Meg and watching them both. Listening to Meg’s low murmuring and his daughter’s sleepy grumbling, he let the domestic scene wash over him and give him some sense of calm.

He was able to take peace from it now though he knew he should leave.

Meg picked up the stuffed unicorn from the sink, where Sam had put it to drip dry after washing it. “Sorry, kiddo. I’ll have to get Linda to repair him.”

"Okay,” Nyx whispered, her voice tiny. Meg stared into her face thoughtfully and Castiel found himself staring as well. Nyx hadn’t looked at him once earlier and he wondered what she had seen during the hellhounds’ attack. Her terror had been so real and she had clung to Linda and Sam for a while. That had stung deeply and he had had to remind himself it was for the best for now. He had longed to hold her himself, the way he had when she had been a newborn scared of this world. When their connection had been so deep, she knew that he would protect her. 

Knowing what it could cost him, he hadn’t held her like he wanted to.

But the urge was still there, stronger than ever.

"You okay, Nyxie?” Meg asked. The girl nodded and reached out so Meg would pick her up. Grunting against the pain in her bandaged side, Meg held her tight and held the unicorn with her other hand. "Come on, you can sleep in your own bed tonight. It’s almost Thursday, baby girl. We can watch the stars tomorrow night if you want. We’re gonna miss the one a.m. watching this time around.”

"Monsters were gonna eat you.”

"No, they weren’t. It was just bad dogs.”

Castiel knew her memory was already hazy over it and sighed, relieved that she might forget it completely. They could be safe for a little while longer. 

"Thursday is a new day. Good things happen on Thursdays,” Meg continued as she carried her down the hall to her small room near the rear of the house. The large windows put so much light in the room that Castiel knew she’d not be scared of the dark. 

Invisible to them still, Castiel leaned against the door and watched as Meg set her down on the bed. She set the toy down on the small chest at the end of the bed and pulled the blankets back for her. Nyx was still too pale in her fear, her blue eyes big and round. She was exhausted and, judging by Meg’s visible wincing, her mother wasn’t too far behind.

"Scary monsters," Nyx whispered as she crawled to the head of the bed and let Meg fix the covers on the bed around her. She was twisting her fingers into knots, her freshly washed hair curling already. Castiel moved through the room but she didn’t see him, even when he sat on the other side of her bed and watched her. His eyes went to Meg’s face and he saw such open affection in her smile -  _love_ , he realized-  that he almost forgot to breathe. Meg had never looked so easily affectionate; never with him or anyone else. She was so devoted to Nyx.

She had been the right choice to protect her.

"Scary monsters gonna eat us,” Nyx repeated.

Meg smiled and picked up a sock monkey from the floor to tuck in beside her instead of the torn unicorn. “You got it, Nyx. You ok?”

"Scared."

Meg sat down and gave her daughter a look, her eyes on her face. “Pretty sure I’m scarier than any monster, huh? You saw what I did to that thing. No one will hurt you because I’m a scary monster even angels would be scared of.”

She made a mock growl sound and snapped her teeth playfully.

Castiel smiled as he listened to Nyx give a tiny giggle. He could see her slowly accept that Meg would protect her and a part of him he thought he had buried slowly warmed to the thought of being here with them. It didn’t matter that he was an angel or Meg a demon; he’d made his choice years ago with her. The urge to reach out and just touch both of them was so strong he clenched his fingers and looked away

Muttering that she was sleepy, Nyx tucked herself down and bundled herself up tightly. She was so deeply buried in the down comforter that all Castiel could see of her was her dark hair peeking out. It was as if she was hiding from the world to protect herself. Meg waited patiently until she was sound asleep, which didn’t seem to take long, before she patted the bundle gently and stood up.

"I wont let anyone hurt you. We only got each other. You’re my cause," Meg whispered. The choice of words made Castiel stare at her, hearing the same sort of devoted fierceness she had for him once. Judging by the look on her face, it was obvious that Meg found her choice of words just as disturbing. He stood and followed Meg to the door, still invisible to her.

As she moved to turn out the lights, she passed his unseen form and he reached out, fingers brushing her own. The soft breeze it caused, the feel of her fingers, sent a rush of warm feeling through him. He saw her shudder, her eyes darting around the room with the sort of quick darting glance of a born soldier looking for a threat. She seemed to look straight at him and he leaned down, wanting so desperately to touch her.

If he had been visible to her, they would have been just an inch from their mouths touching, from his hands touching her.

"You know I’m here," he whispered in his true-voice so she wouldn’t actually hear him. The windows quivered from the pressure but he kept his eyes on Meg. Incredibly, he saw her wince in reaction to his voice and he heard behind her Nyx talking in her sleep. 

Whispering a hello.

She had  _heard_  him.

He automatically pulled back and cursed himself for being an idiot. This wasn’t a game, he wasn’t some lovesick angel; all of this had been done to save them and he was risking it all. After Meg turned out the lights, he followed her through the halls. That they both could feel him meant that the spell Death had given him from the Lethe was cracking further. Meant that he needed to keep his distance. Leave them alone and find a way to make their protection last.

Only he didn’t know how. Eons of life, knowledge well beyond any human, and he was at a loss.

 _Maybe_ , some darker part of him whispered,  _it’s because you don’t want to find a way._

Hating that that part of him was likely right, he knew it was time to leave. To go anywhere else but here, and think about what to do. Though it took him longer than he expected, Castiel disappeared before he was tempted to follow Meg into her bedroom. 

~~

"Not a single thing in town or in the country side,” Dean muttered to himself as he drove an even thirty down the backroads. "Where the hell did that thing come from?”

"Well, hellhounds always come because they are ordered or have a demon unleashing them. But we both know Crowley won’t do that on a whim.” Sam was folding the map back up and he shoved it back under the seat before picking up his chip bag. "He’s on a tight leash from Abaddon as it is.”

"So what if it isn’t him? Someone else let the dogs out?”

Sam resisted the urge to groan at the attempted joke. “Ok. Let’s roll this back. Since we got here, Meg and Nyx were attacked by hellhounds. But nothing else. So what if someone set that dog out to look for her but didn’t know what to look for?”

"Hellhounds aren’t really beagles, Sammy,” Dean countered. "Someone had to have an idea.”

"The one left. Maybe they had orders to hold back. Only certain demons can control them that way. Remember Meg when she controlled them? They followed her orders to stay unless attacked. Crowley could order them to stay and to attack.”

Dean didn’t like being reminded of either situation. “So?”

"So we have a big name player who isn’t Crowley, isn’t Abaddon. Crossroads wouldn’t have any interest in this, not really.”

"Running out of high level demons though.” Reaching over, Dean took a few chips out of Sam’s bag. "We keep offing them.”

"Maybe it is someone we wouldn’t expect.”

"Like?”

"I didn’t think that far ahead.” Sam sighed and leaned back. "I just… A kid who is that little shouldn’t see hellhounds, Dean. We did so much to protect her, them, and now we have to think of something new.”

"So we move them? Maybe get them to Garth’s protection program? He can get them somewhere. Maybe Canada or something.”

"I get the feeling that might not work. But we can try.”

Dean looked up at the sky, seeing the stars and moon showing through the trees. “Well, one good thing?” He looked over at Sam. “That hellhound would go back licking its wounds. Anyone would take one look at the damage and think they aren’t gonna screw with us.”

"Yeah.” Sam frowned and looked out the window. "Hopefully.” 

~~~

Kevin drank until his head spun and his tongue felt numb… and then drank even more. It felt good to feel numb for a while. The static white noise in his head, the insane pressure of being what he was, all of it could be killed for a few precious hours with the bitter bite of alcohol. Even the hangovers were worth it because it gave him something else to focus on for just a little while.

The whispers, the prophecies, the vast knowledge he now had stuck in his head could shut the hell up for all he cared.

But for once, the numbness didn’t quite erase what he felt. 

Guilt was something that never died.

It was easy to erase the Winchesters, the hunters, the angels, the demons, all of them, with a few shots of good whisky. But he couldn’t shut out the fact that a little girl who trusted him like her big brother had nearly been killed today. The one good thing he’d cared about since his mother had been brought to Arkansas, since she’d become the caretaker to a hidden demon and child, had been Nyx. And he’d let her down.

He had let his mother down.

Groaning, he got to his feet and clicked the television off. The entire room swam before his eyes and he leaned heavily against the wall as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. The guest rooms were to the left but he knew this house well. Be so easy to find his bedroom.

His head just hurt so much. He only felt this much pain when he was about to get a vision.

~~~

Castiel sat in a park in the north end of the town and stared up at the sky from his spot on a park bench. He could easily remember the jokes of each angel having a day. Leave it to religion to do such a thing. But oddly, Thursdays always were his better days. Maybe it was because he felt like it gave him responsibility and a sense of duty. Or maybe not. Maybe he simply assumed it did.

But since he had left the house, Castiel had felt a wrongness he hadn’t felt before. Like something was about to turn over and change.

He shouldn’t be thinking about going back. He should be going to Heaven, distracting the angels again as he thought up some plan. Some way of hiding them.

But he was already standing up. He was already bending his will to fly back to the house to watch over them all.

When he turned to face the house’s direction, Death stood just behind him. No warning, no flicker of power to even announce his arrival. He simply blinked at him owlishly, one hand holding his cane and the other holding his bag.

"You nearly lost control of the situation, Castiel. Thank your Father that your demon is so… self-sufficient. Even though she thinks she is a human.”

Knowing that Death had been watching made Castiel realize how much worse that fight with the Hellhound could have gone. Had he been waiting to take a soul?

"Why are you here?”

"I have investments; and people do die in this town, believe it or not. Perhaps I even have a word of advice.” Castiel stepped back as the entity smiled at him. "Humans are vulnerable. Demons are not.”

The angel stared at him. “What?”

"How else would a soul be woken from the Lethe? Death begets more death… and sometimes rebirth.”

"Why are you telling me this?” 

"I could just be stalling you,” Death admitted. "Or I could just be concerned that when the time comes you won’t be willing to do what it takes.” He leaned forward and tapped his cane on the ground as he grinned at Castiel. "Try to prove me wrong. For once, if you will.”

With a snap he was gone, leaving Castiel more confused than before.

~~

Lying awake in her bedroom, Meg stared at the ceiling and wondered why she had felt like someone was watching her. The feeling had left an hour ago but it was so deep under her skin now that she could feel it crawling over her like a physical touch. She could have sworn someone had been in the room with her. At least Nyx was just in the other room, safe. The entire house was quiet except for the occasional creak of floorboards and doors that she dismissed as Kevin moving around.

The vision of those strange hellish beasts attacking her and Nyx was still so vivid even when she closed her eyes. She knew those creatures. They weren’t dogs like Linda or the others had told her. They weren’t nightmares, they were… were…

 _Hellhounds_.

Rolling her eyes, Meg put a pillow over her head and dismissed that name as stupidity. She was exhausted. She was imagining things and voices now. She just needed a few more hours of rest and she’d deal with it in the morning.

~~

Kevin didn’t bother to turn on his light as he happily staggered into his bedroom, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into his closet. Drunkenly, he chuckled at the sound they made when they slammed into the wall. Maybe his mom would wake up and yell at him some more. 

 _I could use some more of her disappointment in my life,_ he thought angrily.

He fell face first onto his bed and sighed as the comforting softness cushioned the impact. This felt so good, he thought. He could sleep, get a nice massive hangover, and try to forget the past few hours. Easy. He’d done it before after all.

Rolling onto his back, he put his arm behind his head and sighed. The room was still spinning even with his eyes shut and his stomach turned over at the sensation. The dizziness was nothing. That was comforting actually. It distracted him.

Kevin smiled and let his other hand rest on his stomach as he breathed in and out deeply. It would be easier to think about in the morning. He could think of something, anything, to make his mom see the right of what he had done. He could even play with Nyx and get her to forget what had happened. In the morning. Kevin let himself start to drift asleep, knowing it would be okay in the morning.

_Drip._

Something warm and wet dropped onto his hand.

It felt like a rain drop.

_Drip._

Kevin immediately thought of the roof repairs that had been done last summer. The air actually smelled coppery now, which could mean a busted pipe. Maybe it was a bad contractor. But knowing his mom, that wasn’t likely. Maybe…

 _Drip_.

Another drop. Just as warm and wet as the first ones. It smeared down his hand as it dribbled and he twitched as more droplets began to sprinkle down on him, starting to hit his stomach and legs.  If he ignored the water, maybe it would just go away, he drunkenly thought before taking in a deep breath.The stench of sulphur suddenly crept into his nostrils, joining the copper rich odour, and hesitantly he opened his eyes.

Only to see his mother staring down at him from the ceiling.

Her eyes were wide and lifeless, her pinned body in a strange parody of crucifixion where she was splayed on the ceiling. The blood was dripping from her body onto his. Her mouth was open as if she was about to scream and Kevin opened his own mouth, wanting to cry out loud.

"Mom?” he whispered instead. He couldn’t find it in him to scream. He had never seen this. This could be a new vision. It had to be a new vision.

_But this was too real. It had never felt this real!_

"Mom?” he whispered again, like a broken child, as his eyes stayed on her face and more droplets of blood joined the others on his face. Her eyes never blinked and her mouth never closed. Linda’s head was tilted at an odd angle and the gaping wound in her stomach was what was dripping blood onto him. "Mom?”

Kevin could only stare in horror and fascination. Praying that this was a dream. A prophecy that this time he could prevent. But under the hope he knew. He knew this was real.

He finally screamed, howled at her to not be dead. Called her name.

As if echoing his scream, he heard the snarl and roar of fire igniting and the ceiling lit up in flames at the edges her body. It surrounded her and lit her body up, smoking flesh and burning hair joining the sulphurous odours. The flames roared loud and he felt a blast of heat as it curled around her and began to devour her flesh.

All the while, she looked down on him with dead, accusing eyes.

 _You should have seen this, Kevin,_ a voice, evil and demonic, whispered in his mind. 

"NO! MOM!” he screamed and he shot up in the bed. The fire alarm began screaming and Kevin screamed with the sound. The fire was starting to slither across the ceiling to the curtains and electrical unit, but Kevin couldn’t move even when the lights exploded. Insanely, he reached out as if to grab her hand from the ceiling, to pull her free from the flames engulfing her body. He didn’t care that he was inhaling lungfuls of black smoke. He had to save her. He had to earn her forgiveness.

Still she stared down at him.

"MOM!”

The door to his bedroom crashed open and through the growing thick smoke he saw Dean. The hunter looked up, his mouth half-open in shock before he recovered. Instinct took over and he launched himself at Kevin to pull him off the bed, just as the ceiling caved, a wood beam splintering his bed in half and bringing Linda’s body with it. Protectively hovering over the younger man, Dean looked up at the door just as Sam skidded in and took in the scene as the entire room became engulfed in flames.

Both brothers recognized it with horrifying memory.

"Find Meg! Make sure they are safe!” Dean shouted and he yanked Kevin up into his arms, slinging his arm over his shoulders. He ignored the way Kevin fought against him, struggling to stay. "Come on, kid.”

"I have to save her!” the prophet shouted hysterically and Dean shook his head, able to tell that Kevin was going to fight him. He let him go but before Kevin could move he punched him across the jaw, knocking him out. Cursing the fire that was already starting to come towards him, Dean slung the smaller man over his shoulders and ran for the steps.

Sam threw open doors to the rear of the house and heard the hiss of fire following him. The halls were already smoke filled and he could smell the sulphur in the house. He wondered, heart banging hard in his chest, if it meant that whoever had been in the house had attacked Meg and Nyx. What if they had been taken or killed while they were out?

"Meg!” he shouted and he slammed into her just as he rounded the corner to her bedroom. She was already dressed and looking confused. When he opened his mouth to tell her to run, she looked over his shoulder and saw the flames climbing along the ceiling behind him. Sam slammed the door shut to buy them some time and turned back to her.

"You have to get out of here.”

Meg shoved him out of her way and ran for the room next to hers and shouldered the door open. 

Nyx was still in her massive bundle of blankets, sound asleep. Meg tossed the blanket to the side, and Sam quickly grabbed what warm clothing he could from Nyx’s small dresser, pausing to even grab the ruined unicorn for her. His mind worked fast, calculating the distance of the fire and the back of the house and he saw the open window. If they had to jump…

Meg shook her daughter awake just as the fire alarms in the old house began to wail. “Nyxie? Wake up. We need to run.”

The little girl was awake immediately. “Monsters?”

Meg went to say no but Sam saw no point in lying. “Yeah, Nyx. Monsters. Come on.” He moved Meg out of the way and scooped her up, tossing Meg the bag he had grabbed. “Stay close,” he ordered over his shoulder as he ran out the door and down the stairwell. 

She was like a shadow, nearly tripping over his feet as they wove their way through the burning house. Nyx clung to his neck and Sam held her tighter to keep her from falling, all the time wondering if they were about to be attacked. The way the house was built meant that it took the fire longer to get to the main level and he made sure to keep both of them close to him.

"What happened?” Meg asked, choking on more smoke.

"The other bedrooms are on fire.” He couldn’t, didn’t want to think of what had just happened. They had seen the flames just starting as they pulled into the driveway and some instinct had made them run into the house. He focussed on what Dean had told him to do. He had to get them out. 

But seeing it… seeing it made it no easier to deal with.

Memories of Jess still clung to him like a bloodstain and he clutched Nyx harder to his body to keep her safe the way he hadn’t been able to keep Jess safe. 

Just outside the door, Dean was still dragging Kevin out the door, the younger man now fighting him and screaming about saving his mother. He had fought him the moment he recovered from the punch. Despite all they had seen and done together, he was still a young man, still a devoted son, and he had loved his mother so much.

As Sam sprinted for the door with Meg behind him, he heard the final snaps and crackle of the beams falling down and he grabbed her hand, whipping her forward and shoving her out. They made it down the porch to the driveway, to stand safe behind the Impala, just as the roaring fire made it to the first level.  Meg spun around to watch as the only home she remembered went up in flames.

Behind her, Dean stared as well and remembered as a tiny boy carrying his baby brother out, not knowing that he was about to lose his hope of a family and a regular life.

While Sam remembered losing what hope he had had of being normal, the devastating loss of Jess.

Kevin crumpled to his knees and cried as he watched the house his mother had made her home become her tomb.

The loud sirens approaching made no one move, not even when firetrucks pulled in front of them and firemen began to pelt them with questions. Everything was in a fog of black smoke and fire. No one could really move. Nyx held onto Sam for protection and he squeezed her back, letting her childish tears keep him strong.

"You all have to move back, we’re going to try to save the house,” a fireman said. "Are you all the only people in the house?”

"Yeah… yeah.” Dean shook himself out of his stupor. "Guys, come on. Back up.”

Everyone backed away, with Kevin being picked up by several fireman and carried over to the ambulance as it arrived. He was heaving for breath, panic and smoke making it hard for him to even get a lungful of oxygen, and Meg watched  everything as if from a daze.

_The fire…_

Shaking her head, she turned around and looked at the growing crowd. Typical of a small town, they left each other alone until something terrible happened. Now cars were pulling up and people she barely recognized were getting out to watch the blaze. No one here would care that they had lost everything.

"Wait… Linda… where is she?” she asked, turning to Dean. He looked down at her, saying nothing, and then looked away. Meg stared at his handsome face and realized what was wrong.

Her only connection to life, to what she could have been, was gone. The only person who had been kind to her in the past three years… lost in the fire. She didn’t even know how or why.

Staggering back a few steps, she moved away from Dean and Sam until her back met her own car. The urge to run was so strong as finally, after three years, she panicked. She could leave while no one was watching. The blaze was stealing the only things she had ever known for the past three years. The smoke and heat began to cloud her eyesight and she inhaled a few lungfuls by mistake, feeling the intensity of the flames though it was a distance away.

She was lost. She didn’t even know who she was.

She had nothing else.

Nothing except…

"Nyx!”  Meg shouted, needing to be sure she was kept safe, and the little girl squirmed in Sam s arms, crying out for her mother as the smoke cleared. Her dusty black waves bounced on her shoulders as her arms outstretched, but Sam kept her safe as more firemen ran by. Meg was clutching her side, gasping for breath from the smoke inhalation and had to pause as several of the firemen shoved her out of their way with the hose.

“Hello, Meg,” someone whispered behind her.  A throaty voice that pricked at her mind, caught at her memory, made her turn to face a young man whose bright eyes slowly flashed to yellow in a sickeningly slow way. The man she had seen on the street. Meg stared at him and wondered why those yellow eyes were so familiar. He grinned and held up a wicked looking silver blade coated in black blood along its smooth edges. “I think it’s time we brought you back.” 

Before she could stop him, he slammed the blade of the knife deep into her belly and pulled her into an awkward hug as if to shield what he had done from everyone else.

"Shh shh, hush,” he crooned to her, rocking her a little back and forth. "No need to call them yet.”

Meg chortled, blood rising from her lips. 

"A type of poison made from hellhound blood and venom. Not enough to kill you if you are a demon, but do you feel the angle? It’s just perfect inside of you, causing some bad damage you should be able to heal if you aren’t human. It’s just enough to wake you up, you understand?”  he asked conversationally as he twisted the knife deeper. Meg couldn’t find the strength to scream, shocked agony ripping through her body. She stared over his shoulder, trying to find a way to gasp, to scream for help.

_Nyx._

A loud shout and scream caught her attention as he released her, letting her sway on her feet. The smile was absurdly friendly, the kiss against the side of her head almost fatherly. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of another dream.

She only thought about it for a split second before the pain slicing through her body screamed for her to do something or die.

“Welcome back, daughter. You will have some explaining to do.”

He disappeared in a flicker of light and Meg’s vision began to blur over. She clutched at the wound in her belly and pulled her hand away to find it coated in blood. The swaying grew worse as a strange white noise and her own heartbeat began pounding in her ears

_Pain. Death._

_Why was that familiar?_

When she looked up, licking dry lips that tasted of blood, her blurred vision revealed a shadow standing in front of her. Tan coat, dark hair but nothing else she could see.

“Meg,”  the garbled voice said just as she collapsed to her knees. Hands caught her, held her and kept her from falling completely. With gentle firmness, the hands touched the wound in her belly that even now was pulsing out blood. Smoothed her hair out of her eyes with now bloodstained fingers and tried to comfort her.

“Get back,”  that familiar rough voice hissed. A loud child’s cry had Meg struggling to open her eyes.

“ _Nyx.”_

“She’s safe. Sam has her. I have you. Hold onto me.”  The voice was gentle and she pressed her head to the shoulder as she felt the last of her will to fight leaving her. He swung her up into his arms and the wound in her belly stopped throbbing for a moment. “Get Nyx to a motel. Protect her. I need to take care of Meg.” 

“Cas, look, we…”

“Go!” 

—

The child’s crying grew faint and Meg grabbed at his sleeves, clutching him like a lifeline. As he teleported them out of the fire, he could feel her starting to die. The thought that he had come back too late, that he hadn’t moved fast enough, made him cradle her closer. She groaned as Castiel gently touched the wound once they came to a stop in the parkland. He’d moved them to the springs much further up the road, needing the space and the lack of people. He needed a chance to save her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,”  he murmured against her hair as he laid her down on the ground below him. “I have you. It’ll be okay. Has to be okay. I need you here. You’ll be okay.”

Continuing to repeat that comforting litany, more to keep himself calm than her, Castiel parted her shirt and stared at the gaping wound. It was deep and had been done purposely. When he lifted his bloodstained fingers close to his face, he could smell the heady odour of a poison. He knew then what he had to do. Knowing what using his Grace on her would do to what left of the spell. Knowing what was about to be risked.

He looked up at her face, seeing the confused agony there as she gasped and choked. “I need to heal you. I’m sorry. It’s time and I can’t let this happen.”

She was coughing up blood, her body struggling to heal from the blow already. Castiel knelt beside her and tore her necklace off, his fingers crushing the coins that dangled there with the others. His hand glowed as his Grace unleashed and destroyed the coins, sending them back to where they had come from. Dropping the rest of the necklace to the ground, he leaned closer and pressed his palm to her side.

“I’m sorry, Meg. I hope you can forgive me. It’ll be okay, I swear. You’ll be okay.” 

Her eyes were rolling back in her head as he put his other hand to her forehead. Whispering in Enochian, he began to focus his power and found the wall he’d built in her mind. The deep shadow of a mask the spell from the Lethe had created and that his Grace had helped strengthen to hide the demonic darkness deep inside of her. He could feel the spell he had used, the power of the Lethe now broken completely at the touch of his Grace, and he found the crack in that protective shell. His power tore into it, widening it and pulling it apart the way someone would tear apart a wall brick by brick. 

His eyes stayed on Meg’s face and saw the pain there.

"Come back to me.” 

Her darkness snapped and snarled around her as he unleashed her true nature and his own Grace warred with hers instinctively, drawing it out to defend itself. Meg’s chest inflated and she gasped, the blood that pulse from her wound no longer as thick. Her fingers clutched his coat tight and he pressed the heel of his hand in harder. Her breathing quickened but she didn’t scream, not like a human might. She just stared up at him with pained brown eyes as she gulped in deep breaths and as he watched her eyes slowly turn black, like an ink stain slowly spreading.

The limp way she hung in his arms was warm and familiar and he smoothed his thumb over the crease in her brow, his fingers easing the pressure. “Meg,” he muttered and his fingers flexed. Immediately he felt her memories flooding back, the torture that had made her a demon, the centuries of evil and pain, the utter power in her darkness. Still he continued to apply the pressure. “Come back. Please. Wake up.”

He watched as the true face of the demon came back to life in its smoke and grey flesh entirety. It flickered over her and he grasped her tighter as Meg the human was replaced by Meg the demon. He glanced away to see the wound closing on its own.

“Come back to me. I won’t let you die,” he whispered and looked up to see her eyes were closed. The wound healed and her power roared to life as his Grace brought it back into the open.

Slowly, her eyes opened and Castiel waited. Those eyes were now so black that no light seemed to escape them as she stared up at him. Focussed on him totally and Castiel stared back into her eyes.

“ _Meg.”_


	3. Fog (When Angels Wait)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Meg returned to her demonic state, Castiel now has to cope with the consequences of his decision three years ago. It leads to something far more drastic than he realizes when Meg takes matters into her own hands. As monsters and demons alike grow unsettled, Dean and Sam realize that something more than demons could be their greatest threat

Watching the fire consume the house, the creature wearing Adam Milligan’s face enjoyed the rush of heat and the smell of smoke. Lifting a blood soaked hand, he admired at the way the fire highlighted the pale skin and bones of his hand. Everything, in that moment, seemed so tangible and  _alive._  The flames, the sound of people fighting to keep the fire from getting out of control, the smells and sensations of a hundred people gathered to watch the old building burn to the ground. 

It was a beautiful thing to have caused.

He smiled as his eyes flickered between icy blue and sickly yellow; but all the while orange embers burned with unholy light in the deep pits of them. His tongue flicked over his lips as he stared at the red droplets on his hand. He’d forgotten how blood could gleam like dark ruby in the firelight.

With a murmur of delight, he stuck two fingers into his mouth and sucked it down like precious liquor. 

"Delicious," he said before he let his tongue slide over the rest of his hand until he was clean.  _Much better than a towel,_ he thought and now her blood was as deeply familiar to him as her scent. He’d forgotten how potent demons’ blood was when the demon was an old one.

He still wondered why, of all those dark souls, this one had come back. This one remained when the rest had been given to the Lethe after their deaths, allowed to escape.  _There must be something about her,_  thought one part of him critically, trying to maintain balance as the taste of her blood lingered on his tongue. The other part, the one coiled tight around the light inside him, twitched back awake. _Oh yes, there was something,_ it agreed, snarling and wrapping itself even tighter like a snake around a rabbit, fangs exposed to bite. There had always been  _something_  about her _._

He watched the Impala pull out of the driveway, leaving the house behind to collapse to smoking ruin. Leave it to them to escape when there was no one to see them leave. Taking with them a prize he knew was worth something though the insanity in his mind wasn’t sure what that was. They’d stolen her, with the same speed that the angel had taken  _her_. 

It was irritating. Killing the human had been too easy; she hadn’t even screamed after spitting in his face and mocking him even when he slit her stomach open. But the kill had been necessary; annoying but necessary. But even though he’d gotten his way, he now had problems. The prophet was already carted off, the Winchesters were gone and, somewhere, a demon was waking up and not where he needed her to be. He had to think about how to move next.

Underneath the surface of his skin, the celestial beings hiding within the blood and flesh cage screeched as they continued to fight for supremacy.

~~

_An exorcism never ended in heat and ash. Despite the agony and the screams and the way a demon would fight it, the first moments of pain were never as bad as the ones that came after._

_An exorcism ultimately ended in fear and isolation._

_It wasn’t the screams of the damned or the rusted metal hooks that tear into the soul, a sort of hellish greeting given to the exorcised demons, that terrified them._

_It was a vast emptiness. There was darkness where there had once been light and warmth replaced by bitter cold._

_It made the extreme of Hell so violent when they woke there after being isolated for so long, only to find themselves once again caged and furious. It was why demons fought so hard to rise from the Pit when they succumbed to their darker selves, why they would do anything to drag themselves out, by tooth and nail, and find bodies to hide in. They would fight to never return if they had a choice. The bodies they took kept them caged but in a different way that at least took them from the cages of bone and despair._

_The disposable demons would return time and time again and survive the brutality of the Pit if they were sent back. Unless they met with a more permanent fate to never return to Hell itself again, it was an endless cycle for the demons. Rise, fall, torture, rise, fall; a miserable fate that only fed their want for destruction._

_The older demons learned to be disgusted by the idea of being caged by human bodies, when they had abandoned them for such beautiful, torturously twisted souls of their trueforms. They rarely rose unless they had a purpose on Earth and they often left it to their soldiers to rise, to suffer in the Pit if they fell._

_But even then, there were exceptions._

_It was why the demon called Azazel’s daughter clawed her way out and survived. She’d come back and ultimately rebelled._

_Choking in smoke and ash, she climbed from the Pit each time and always had a feeling of rebirth. Vengeance and purpose. She was born to survive._

_**Until the Lethe.** _

_Then she knew what it was to drown and have no hope of surfacing._

_She was submerged now, legs kicking out uselessly as she tread far below the waves and hovered within dark water covered by a sheet of ice.  The light that pierced the glass-like surface was just a shadow to her. Even when she had tried to rise from the water, there was nothing to give her purchase to swim up to see what was above. She had seen a storm, a hurricane, but she was cradled within the currents and kept safe in the calm of the water so that the blinding lightning hadn’t touched her._

_Each slow pull of the riptide was like gravity, pulling her lower and lower and each day that passed she sank deeper into the water as time dragged on. She lost herself in the water and the ice slowly became familiar, a hard shell that encased her and took her into greater darkness. She drifted into a silence that made her own heartbeat loud in her ears.  Such peace was a mercy to her now, instead of a sacrilege to what she was, and it wasn’t long before she submitted to the oblivion of the water._

_**Time to sleep, Meg.** _

_That voice lulled at her, pulled her down, and she let her her arms float over her head as the tide pulled her deeper._

—  **Meg!** _—_

_Another voice, garbled by water and distance, yanked at her like a hand gripping her soul, and she opened her eyes to stare up at the surface. Something illuminated above, this time not lightning but a beacon of light. She twisted in the water, the riptide slowly turning to hands that held onto her legs and body, dragging her down. But the call of the light was stronger and she kicked out hard, once. The hands let go, the tide went still, and suddenly she could move. Her lungs burned with a sudden need for air and she was desperate for relief._

_She wanted to get free. She was so close!_

_The thought of freedom she clung to as she swam through the shadows and rose through the water and ice._

~~

“Meg, come back to me. I won’t let you die,” Castiel whispered as he smoothed his hand down the side of her face again and again. He wanted to soothe her and snap her out of her catatonic state all at once.

It was the same litany he had murmured for nearly an hour. He’d let her lie, still and cold on the grass, with her eyes closed and her chest barely moving, and he hadn’t moved her yet. He had wanted to do something. Shake her, stroke her face, slap her, anything to force her to look at him, but he kept his hands soothing and prayed instead.

Prayed even though he knew his Father wasn’t listening.

_What if there had been limitations to the spell? What if, in the end, it had turned her into a vulnerable human? What if she could resist his healing? What if he’d failed?_

Castiel shifted so he sat cross-legged beside Meg and watched her face.

Nothing. 

His phone was vibrating in his pocket wildly with text messages but he ignored it. He even knew that he should answer them; the fire at Linda’s house would have taken its toll, but still he just watched Meg.

Waited for her. 

As he looked away finally, needing to steady himself, he noticed her necklace where he’d thrown it on the ground. Castiel picked it up and let the charms run through his fingers. He splayed them on his palm and tentatively closed his fingers over the smallest of them. They were hot to touch from the spell and humming with power, but without the coins there wasn’t that tinge of the Lethe anymore. Castiel rolled them on his palm and let the charms hang for a moment as they cooled. Closing his eyes, he tucked the necklace into his coat pocket, fingers brushing his tiny journal as well.

A low sound caught his attention and his head whipped around so fast that his neck cracked a little. 

Castiel heard her breathing stop for a second and his own heart skipped a beat in his chest. He sighed in relief as Meg’s chest inflated again, a ragged breath groaning past her lips like a death rattle. She was still for a moment before it happened again, stronger than before, and he scrambled to his hands and knees to lean down over her. 

"Meg?”

He touched her face and then glanced down at the bloody shirt. The wound had nearly knitted over, leaving the skin smooth and supple, and he gingerly slid his fingers over it. His Grace created a white line that he could see clearly on her body, dancing over the flesh and sinking beneath to touch her darkness. Meg’s lips, still raw and chapped from her earlier cries, began to move and Castiel slid down so he was almost lying beside her.

“Come on,” he encouraged, ear hovering just over her mouth as he listened to her breathing deepen. “I know you’re in there.” 

“Castiel,” she hissed out low and soft and he smiled, looking up to see her eyes watching him. Wide, staring, and black as pitch. Castiel thought they were absolutely beautiful.

Some absurd hope flooded him at the familiarity of that look; at the way her eyes seemed to flick over his face. As if she was searching for something within the depths of his own eyes: perhaps his true form, the hints that lurked beneath the vessel to show the angel as he was? Meg murmured his name again; her brow was furrowed in confusion as if she was trying to figure out what he was doing there. Then, just as suddenly, her face went blank and he thought she was going to fall asleep again.

Before he could speak, her mouth twisted into a snarl and her fist came out of nowhere. The loud crunch of flesh on flesh was deafening in the quiet park. There was real power behind her punch as it slammed into his face; if he’d been human it would have broken his jaw. Instead, he went sprawling out beside her, gasping in shock at the sensation. His horrified eyes went to her but Meg was already rolling away from him, clutching at her head and nearly tearing at her hair.

“It’s in my head, all of it. It hurts. What did you do to me?” she said. Her voice was low, rough from too much screaming and smoke, but it was somehow worse than if she had screamed at him. 

Castiel quickly got to his knees beside her.

"Meg, it’s me! Castiel,” he said, reaching out to touch her but she shoved him back _. She’s panicking_ , he thought as he balanced on his knees,  _she needs to see that she’s going to be safe._

"You son of a bitch, I know who you are!” Meg shouted and then collapsed into a fit of coughing. Thick black tendrils of black dust drifted from her mouth and curled around her face, and he watched her head tilt back. Alarmed, Castiel could only watch as a tiny vortex of smoke started to spiral out of her mouth. The chapped bloody lips parted wider and she screamed, echoed by the wind of darkness trying to escape her meatsuit.

Even though he was used to the high pitch and tone of angelic chorus, it was painful to hear as he looked up at the dark of her soul climbing into the sky.

But before it could spiral out of control, something flickered from the body to snap around the smoke and her soul was drawn back down to the meatsuit. It moved slowly, twined beneath a twist of shadow and light that distorted the air around them as the demon was pulled back to earth. Meg’s meatsuit sagged under the pressure and Castiel dove to catch her, holding her head back as the soul came back to the abandoned body she’d taken. Her eyelids fluttered and she continued to gasp for air, but there was no escaping the pressure and pain he knew she felt.

Meg began to shake as she felt every buried memory start to weave its way through her mind and remind her just who she was. Not just the surface, the superficial details that any could guess, but the deeper memories that fought their way to remind her who she was and what she had been. Terrifying flashes of pain and a sensation of drowning choked at her.

She was a demon. She’d lost herself for a time, only to be reborn on the damp grass of an abandoned park.

Rocking her back and forth, Castiel tried to soothe her as he smoothed her hair back from her sweated forehead. His arms tightened and he raised a knee so she wouldn’t fall on the grass, wouldn’t feel cold from the dew and the moist earth.. Castiel closed his eyes and felt her pain as if it was his own as he held her. The angel could hear her babbling, struggling to regain herself, felt her struggle against his strength when her pain tried to convince her to run, but none of it mattered as he waited for her darkness to reawaken fully.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before he pressed a kiss against the top of her head and begged her to come back to him.

He prayed that what he had done hadn’t destroyed any chance of forgiveness.

~~

"You know, that whole ‘how can things get worse’ thing just made so much more sense after what happened,” Dean said as he pulled into the main street of a tiny town, searching for a motel. He had tried to put as much distance between them and the burning house before he’d slowed down the Impala from its breakneck speed. Before leaving they’d only paused long enough to be sure Kevin was away in an ambulance, then they’d gunned it out of that wreckage. There was no time to see where Castiel had taken Meg, and not enough time to sit and grieve for Linda.

 _There never is enough time,_ Dean thought angrily.  _Damn, she deserves for us to grieve_.

But after all these years, both men had grown so used to their losses that they had learned to bury any grief deep down and not dwell on it.

“Shh,” Sam growled and he reached over the turn off the music Dean had put on to soothe his own nerves. His brother glared and reached out to turn it back on when out of the corner of his eye he spotted the small child curled up between them. She’d been so quiet he had forgotten she was there. Nyx was bundled up tightly, still in her pyjamas and cuddling her torn toy close to her body, and she was pressed against his leg with her head resting on his thigh. Despite her crying, they’d been able to get her into the car and away from the house without too much fuss.

Neither liked leaving Kevin behind but he needed medical attention and they needed to protect Nyx. Neither understood the strange need to protect her instead of Kevin, but they hadn’t stopped to question it. To keep her from crying too loudly and attracting attention, Sam had finally brought her to the front with him. For some reason sitting between them had calmed her and her frightened tantrum had dulled a little.

Dean lowered his hand and patted the top of her dark head, hoping she would sleep for a little longer. It had taken a lot to convince her to sleep and he hadn’t been too proud to stop and get some Child’s NyQuil in town before they headed right out.

Meg would likely have tried to kill him if she ever found out, though what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Can’t believe you drugged her,” Sam said as if voicing Dean’s own thoughts as his brother slowed down for a red light.

“I didn’t drug her, Sam, I helped her. She was frantic. I can’t say I blame her. We went through the same thing, you know how it can mess you up at that age, but I’ll be damned if I’ll wake her up right now.” Dean reached over and nudged Sam in the side before he rested his hand on Nyx’s shoulder. “Look, we can’t just get her to a hospital, you said so yourself. There are too many people and we don’t even know if she would test as human. Linda never said and you know she kept her away from too many doctors. And until we get word from Cas, we can’t do much else.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

Both brothers watched as the light continued to stay red and Sam leaned down to fish through his bag for his phone without looking away. “What do you think did it?”

Dean sucked in a deep breath and then looked over at him, lower lip thrust out and his eyes piercing.

His brother immediately shook his head at that look. “No, Dean. No.”

“It’s the only thought I got. That sort of move, you know, with the– Jesus – the ceiling thing? That’s not from Crowley’s time or even Abaddon’s. Abaddon prefers a straighter kill and Crowley would play it out, especially if it was Linda and Kevin. That was old school, Sam.”

“Old school and impossible.”

“Sam.” Dean took in a deep breath. “Think back over the past three years. Hell, even look at who’s sleeping between us, and tell me what is impossible.”

Sam stared at him and then down at Nyx. “Okay, you’ve got a point.”

“Course I do. I got the brains and the looks in the family.” He eased the car forward when the light changed and tapped his thumb against the wheel thoughtfully. “If Meg is—”

Reaching over, Sam punched him in the shoulder and ignored his disgruntled hiss of pain. When he gestured at Nyx, Dean settled down and didn’t continue that train of thought. 

“Look, maybe Cas is removing that spell as we speak and we’ll be good. Full-throttle Meg is better than amnesia Meg by far, and we both saw her take care of that hellhound,” Sam explained. “Maybe she would have a clue.”

“She seemed pretty upset before whatever happened out there.” Dean frowned. “Still not sure what I saw but she was stabbed, Sam. Before that she was looking ready to run. You saw it on her face too.”

“Well, her and Linda got along. We both know how she was for the past few years,” he said. “”Meg’s not been very stable in the past, except for Nyx.”

“I just think maybe Cas isn’t ready for how bad this could be, bringing Meg back like this.” Dean turned the Impala towards the motel sign flashing in the darkness. “Remember how you felt, having your wall broken down?”

Sam flinched. “Dean, I…”

“Or how it would be if you had to forget everything?” Dean gently put one hand over Nyx’s ear so he could block her from hearing. “I’m just saying, Sam, I would actually understand this time around if Meg flew off the handle and shivved him.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Sam glanced down at Nyx. “At least for her sake. Kid’s night has been hard enough.”

~~

The moment she stopped shaking, Castiel felt Meg’s body go rigid and coiled as if ready to escape. He tightened his arms around her waist and held on as she began to twist and scream obscenities at him; she was elbowing him, kneeing him, anything she could to force him to let go. But his strength was still greater hers and he tucked himself up to prevent the worst of the blows, grabbing her hands and pushing them away behind her back.

“Meg…”

“You son of a bitch!” she screamed again though this time her voice cracked. There had been too many screams, too many cries of pain as she had succumbed to herself, and it had strained her throat. Castiel felt her turn in his arms and he slung his arms tighter across her waist, one hand stealing up into her hair to keep it from tangling around them. He tried to brush it away from her face and was nearly headbutted as she squirmed. 

“Calm down. I won’t hurt you.”

Meg didn’t stop trying to get free and he felt her clutching his clothing, her legs still trying to kick away from him to find purchase on the ground. He fought to keep her calm, muttering at her to keep still, that it would pass and it wouldn’t hurt anymore. But something changed as she twisted into him, as she realized he wasn’t about to let her go, and the grip turned from frantic to angry. 

Her hands stole into his coat and on instinct he pulled back just as the glimmer of metal caught his eye. The sword sang as she yanked it out of its holster and sliced the blade through the air, nearly catching him as he rolled away to his feet. It tore his shirt at the stomach and he stared down at the clean slice it had made through the material, his skin prickling from the near miss.

“Meg,” he warned and he watched her roll to her knees, the sword shining between them like a block. She flicked it back so the blade rested against her forearm, ready to stab at him if he moved. 

“Get away from me.”

Holding up his hands, he stepped back and watched her get shakily to her feet. He couldn’t hide the way his eyes roamed over her, seeing the visible strain of her body and how her entire body seemed to pulse with demonic life. He could see her true face lingering just under the surface now.

But he hadn’t seen it look at him with such hate since that moment years ago. A moment he remembered too clearly: when he had been trapped in fire and had met the demon that had shown such love and loyalty for his fallen brother. They had fought to undermine one another’s faith because that was what they were meant to do: hate each other until it destroyed one of them. If the world had made any sense, he would never have risked everything for her and she wouldn’t have given up everything for him.

Realizing it, just made him love her all the more and be more determined to stand still and take her rage as his penance.

“Meg, it’s…”

“Shut it, Castiel,” she snapped. Her other hand went to her hair and she pulled hard on the dark brown strands. “Oh. Oh sweet Hell. It hurts.”

He watched her head bow and he took a shuffling step forward, only for the sword to be swung out to barely miss his stomach again. He jumped back and warily watched the wild swing of her arm. “Meg, I can…”

“If you even try to touch me,” Meg warned and her eyes opened again to reveal dark brown, “and I’ll kill you.”

Castiel dropped his hand down.

“You. I remember you now. Who you were. What we… what we did. What you were.” She backed away. Castiel felt a part of him breaking at the hate and anger in her face. The way she stared at him as if he was, once again, her enemy.  

“I was yours,” he offered. “We were—”

"”We were nothing!” she shouted and then had to wince at the pain it caused in her head. “You took my life from me!”

  Shaking his head, he stepped toward her again. “I wanted you safe, Meg—”

Her fingers tightened around the hilt and he watched her weakly swipe at the air again. “You even come closer.”

“— you and Nyx. I wanted you safe. You were the best person for her, Meg. I trusted you.”

“Shut. Up. Just shut up.” She scraped her nails down her face and then stared at her hand as if expecting there to be blood and flesh on it. “You hid what I was, you… buried me alive. Knowing I might never get those memories, that part of me, back!”

Castiel had never thought of it like that but now, faced with her, he knew how she could see it that way. It wasn’t what he meant though; he knew she just needed time to understand.

The urge to touch her was so strong that he held his hand out, palm up, and waited. But Meg did nothing but stare at him as if he was something she was going to kill.

“I meant to bring you back if it was safe, whenever that was. I might for it to be less painful. But you were stabbed, and I… I needed you.”

“To what? Protect your offspring still?” Meg’s lips curled into a snarl. “Saddle me with the kid and you get to roam free.”

How fast her fear went to hateful words made him wonder how much she believed of that.

“It wasn’t like that. She needed you.”

“Why?” Meg asked and she bowed over to cough. As Castiel watched, the shattered remnants of her mask seemed to fall away from her true face and the smoke and woman became one for a moment. The angel sword dropped from her hand and she groaned, digging her fingers instead into the flesh of her thighs as she shuddered. “Why would you do this to me?”

“We can argue about this later,” Castiel said, forcing his voice to a more neutral tone though he was tempted to reach out again. Instead he quickly summoned the blade back to him to keep it safe and away from her. “We need to get you to safety.”

Meg’s laugh was so stark and sudden that he backed up a step in strange fear of it. The laugh started low and raised sharply, a staccato sound in the still night air. To his ears it was almost maniacal and torn into hysteria with its pain. Her hair drifted in the breeze and she peered at him through a veil of darkness.

“Me? Safe? Oh, Castiel,” her eyes flicked to black, “you really should have thought of that years ago.”

He swallowed deeply as Meg straightened up.

“I did it to save you.”

“You caged me.” Her head tilted and his fear intensified when something colder replaced the fear and pain. “Knowing what that would do to me.”

“I…”

“Where would they take Nyx?” she said suddenly and he backed up another step as she circled him, somehow seeming more like a predator than a demon. Castiel had never felt threatened by Meg before. Never in their long association but there was pure hate-filled  _intent_  coming from her.  _His demon,_ he thought almost possessively as he met her eyes and tried to recognize what he saw _._

This demon was ready to rip him apart. This wasn’t the creature he’d come to know. This was the one Dean had warned him of. The one that had fallen in line with Hell’s orders time and time again, the one that had fallen without a purpose and had tortured them until she found a cause again. 

_What if this was the cost Death had spoken of?_

Shaking himself when Meg demanded an answer louder this time, Castiel checked his phone and saw the address. “Outside the town. I can take you…”

“Where?” she demanded and snapped her fingers. He was unprepared for her power to snarl around his and his cellphone suddenly felt hot to the touch. As uncontrolled as she was, her power had been temporarily increased by her rebirth and the phone flew out of his grip. Ignoring his protest, Meg turned it over in her hand and stared at the screen.

“Meg,” Castiel warned as he watched her drop the phone to the concrete. Her eyes met his and the hate, the anger that he saw there, tore at him.

She was gone in a flicker and he cursed himself for being too slow, for underestimating her again. But as fast as she was, she wasn’t strong enough not to leave a trace behind. Stretching out his Grace, he found the tornado of her dark self and set after her. He wasn’t about to lose track of her just because she had surprised him.

~

A block away from the motel address on the text, Meg landed hard and fell to her back before she could catch herself. Her ability to teleport, at first so eager to rise to her needs, had suddenly weakened just after throwing herself across that distance. She felt disgustingly old and powerless in comparison to what she had once been. She was so tired already and she lay still on the gravel, watching the night sky spin overhead.

_What he done to her?_

There was no mistaking what she had felt when her soul had sprung free from the cage it had been in. Each torturous memory, of darkness and pain, flooded back and transformed her to what she had been for years now. She burned inside and out, though her flesh felt torn by ice instead of fire. Her lungs burned and her head ached, and the longer she laid there the more that she realized every muscle just hurt.

Feeling the small rocks dig into back, Meg stared up at the moonlit sky and groaned as the headache pounded in her temples. It was easy to decide to hate everything in existence until this ache left. At least that distracted her a little so that she could plan her next move. The shift in the air let her know she hadn’t run fast enough and she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

When her eyes reopened, Castiel stood over her after arriving in a flutter of cloth and wings. He tilted his head as she looked up at him upside down. The shadows distorted his face but she wasn’t interested in seeing how he had changed, or how he likely was giving her that pitying look she hated. Meg longed to stab him with his own sword, so that  _she_  could feel something to measure up to that hate and anger she felt. He’d done something worse than Alastair or Azazel.

He’d buried her and put her in an illusion.

Likely expected her to roll over in gratitude as well.

 _Damn_ , she thought,  _straightforward torture was so much better._

“You’re not strong enough to teleport far,” he said. His voice was light, as if it was just yesterday they had been together and not three years ago. Meg stared up at him and remembered fragments of that day, though much of it was a haze. Of him looking down at her and smiling, touching her, giving no sign of the betrayal that would happen. “I was going to tell you that.”

“Stay away from me,” Meg snapped as she scrambled to her feet. The motel wasn’t that far away, she realized. Miserable as she felt, she could make it if she walked. Looking down at her own body, she knew she’d gone further looking and feeling worse. Her clothing still smelled of fire and smoke, not her natural scent, and her clunky shoes weren’t made for any real distance. But anything was better than another stupid and humiliating fall like that, especially if Castiel was watching.

The angel followed her on foot at a safer distance, letting her pull ahead of him every time his longer legs caught up.

They’d walked in silence for a while until he finally cleared his throat and caught up again. “I need to explain.”

“Shut up.” 

“Meg, stop. If you go back like this, Nyx won’t know you. She might see you only as a demon.”

“I don’t care.”

“You need to calm down,” Castiel warned as he closed in and reached for her arm. “You need to listen to me.”

Without any warning, Meg turned and slammed her hand into his stomach, sending him to his knees. Shocked, Castiel gazed up at her as she knifed her hand into his hair and yanked his head back.

“I don’t need anything. I don’t even know why I’m not killing you right now. But trust me, I want to.” She looked into his eyes and the angel stared back. His eyes flicked over her face as if he was seeing under the surface of her and Meg let him go when it was clear he didn’t fear her even when she wanted so badly to kill him. Dusting off his knees, Castiel stood up and cleared his throat. 

“I brought you back to save you. You were…”

“I know what happened,” Meg snapped and her head twisted to the side as her hand stole beneath her bloody shirt to touch the healed wound. She stroked it thoughtfully. “Just not sure why.”

She shook herself again and Castiel watched her warily.

“I sent Nyx with the Winchesters. They can protect her.” He was trying to keep her calm but he knew she wasn’t seeing it that way.

“You sent _my_  kid with those idiots?” Meg snapped.

“She’s mine as well,” Castiel blurted out. He knew better than to admit that it felt good to say that aloud. 

“You gave up that years ago, angel.” Meg once had used that as an endearment but Castiel could feel the insult there now. 

“I wanted to protect you but I can’t tell you why now. We’re exposed. Nyx is safe and if we can get out of the open we can talk…”

The low angry chuckle she gave was full of rage. “You would try to use Nyx in this. Well, Cas, she’s smart, not some stupid human. She  _knows_ that she’s different. She’s scared little girl who can’t figure out what she is and I couldn’t tell her because you took that memory from me! She needed us the way we were!”

Castiel tilted his head, caught by her words. The broken anger in her voice held his attention. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”  

“Need me?” He reached out and touched her, trying not to feel the way she flinched when his hand just brushed her wrist. Meg stepped out of his way and walked around him.  

“You made me stop needing you around. I forgot you, remember?” Her head turned a little towards him. “I don’t want you here.”   

“I…” Castiel squared his shoulders. “I want to be here.”

  Her resentment clear, Meg leaned away and kept walking towards the motel. “So you take me to Nyx and you leave it at that. I swear if you hurt her I’ll kill you myself.”

“I won’t hurt her or you. I never wanted to.”

“  Broken promises, Castiel, you were always good at those.”  Meg’s bitterness curled around him and he quickly walked in front of her, trying to slow her down.

“Fine, but just wait.”

“I’m going to her. Now.”

Castiel felt his alarm growing as she passed him again. “She’ll see what you are.”

“Better than learning her absent father decided to show up,” Meg snarled just to twist the knife in, tossing the words over her shoulder with a bitterness that burned. “Stay out of my way.” 

~~~~

Sam was stretched out on the couch, his head swimming with the start of a headache as he stared at the television. He’d been grateful to get some rest but even lying down his stomach felt like it was being turned inside and out. At least they had warm spot for a change. The motel wasn’t the greatest but the rooms were clean and cheap. Dean had anticipated Meg and Castiel, getting a spare room and letting Nyx curl up in bed so their warding and conversation wouldn’t bother her. With the door propped open, Dean could watch her as he cleaned his weapons and made phone calls to Garth and the closest hunters to find out if there had been any unusual activity.

That there had actually been an upswing in monster and demonic activity in the north and east likely only meant trouble. Sam had tossed in a few ideas but nothing seemed to fit. Even before they’d gone to Heber Springs, it had been a little quiet lately and maybe they were about to pay the price for that. 

When the door swung open, Sam nearly fell off the couch as he launched himself for a possible weapon, the closest being the lamp. He spun, blinking rapidly to get rid of the stars in his eyes as the room swam in his vision. Shaking his head, he focussed on Meg’s small body outlined in the doorway, and slowly put the lamp back down. Nearby, Dean stood up and set his cleaning rags on the table.

Both of them could see Castiel standing just behind her, his eyes on the back of her head. Reluctantly, he looked at them both and gave a tiny shake of his head, warning them. Sam leaned back against the arm of the couch and cleared his throat noisily to break the tension.

Her eyes went over him and then Dean as she came into the centre of the room. Sam swallowed when she focussed on him in particular. 

“You both knew.”

Neither moved or said anything.

“Guess I’m not surprised,” Meg muttered and she walked forward, snatching a bottle of beer off the table that Sam had half-drunk already.

“So you’re back to full demon?” Dean asked, not trying to sugar coat anything. As she gulped down the beer noisily, she looked directly at him and her eyes went black for an answer. Dean and Sam glanced at each other as she took up two more bottles from the coffee table and drank them down without bothering to pause. Castiel fidgeted behind her before finally closing the door and locking it. He glanced out the curtains, as if he was sure they’d been followed, and then shook his head, turning around to watch the demon.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked her tentatively.

“Let’s not pretend we actually care.” Meg set the last bottle down with a thunk and made a disgusted face. “No wonder I never got drunk. That crap is weak.”

“She wanted to see Nyx. I told her you would keep her safe,” Castiel explained to the brothers. Dean nodded to the connected room.

“She’s been sleeping for a bit now. I think the fire wore her out. Kev’s in the hospital but Nyx seems okay,” he said. “It is pretty lucky we were able to sneak out, you know.”

Before he could say anything more, Meg was walking towards the door. She stopped to grab Nyx’s bag from the floor and swung it up over her shoulder, looking at the men in a way that warned them not to come with her. Castiel sighed at that look and followed her, gesturing for Dean and Sam to stay back. Both hunters happily didn’t move to go along with either of them.  Dean looked at Sam and made a slicing gesture across his throat and, try as he might not to, Sam grinned and looked away.

But even though he was just behind her, Meg slipped through the connecting door and slammed it in Castiel’s face before he could follow. It vibrated with the force of the impact and only leaning back just a bit kept it from breaking his nose. Castiel stared stupidly at the white chipped wood for a long time, head tilted as he faced the door as if he could see through it. Eventually, his shoulders hunched and he slowly sagged forward, pressing his forehead against the door.

Patting him on the back in sympathy, Dean went back to cleaning his shotgun as Sam shook his head and sat on the couch again. The brothers kept their voices low, but he didn’t hear a word either said to him. Through the door he could hear nothing of what was happening in the next room and he wondered what Meg was doing. 

Turning so his back was against the door, Castiel let his head fall back as he slowly slid down to the floor.

~~

The reawakened demon hated the idea of being so close to something that had trapped and hurt her. The Grace it could feel seething on the other side of the door made darkness snarl and curl inside of her and Meg felt herself getting ready to run and escape. Caged too long, everything she was felt swelled and sore from the forced hiding.

_You’re a demon. Not some simple human._

The temptation to just sneak out the door, covered by the pretence of checking on Nyx, was so strong that she made it to the other side of the room to the bathroom, where she could crawl out the window if she had to. Her hand was already on the knob when Nyx’s soft mumbling that caught her attention and made her turn around. The lump in the middle of the bed was shaking and Meg’s face twisted into a confused frown. A conflicted sensation that she hadn’t expected kept her from turning away.

 _Kill her and you won’t feel a leash anymore,_  a devious voice whispered, familiar and heavily dripping with seduction. A voice she hadn’t heard in her head in three years. It sounded like… Meg’s skin crawled and she shook her head. But the voice wouldn’t be silenced.  _It would be a mercy. Kill her._

Even though she wasn’t armed, her hand dropped to the back of her jeans where she normally would have hidden a knife. But the instant the familiar gesture happened, her instincts screamed no. 

Looking at Nyx, she pulled her hand away and put it to her own forehead instead, muttering for that voice to shut up and leave her alone.

She’d carried that impossible child for almost nine of the most trying months in her long existence. She’d cared for her when all demonic principles should have had her killing her and leaving. Gone against the laws of her own kind because of her.

It was hard to deny the truth.

Meg loved her. She could still remember holding her and comforting her for the past three years against scary dreams and loneliness. Nyx had been hers and hers alone. The only constant she had had that made sense to devote her loyalty to.

Meg shoved those thoughts aside and slid her hands down her legs as she crouched beside the bed. Reaching out, she touched Nyx’s dark hair, smoothed her fingers down the baby-soft cheek, and watched her turn sleepily over to her touch. As a demon now she could feel the faint hum of something hiding in her own daughter and she wondered if, like herself, Nyx could no longer hide what she was. 

"Nyx."

Her eyes, blue and moist from tired tears, fluttered open to stare at Meg. Instantly those eyes widened as her mouth opened in a scream and the demon put her hand on her mouth to smother it. She felt those tiny sharp teeth bite but she kept herself calm and smiling as she kept Nyx from being too loud.

“Shh. Nyx. It’s me.” The girl stopped her struggling but her eyes were so large and suddenly dark that she nearly looked black-eyed herself. Waiting for her to look into her eyes, Meg stroked her other hand down her face and let her still weak power just gently touch her daughter’s mind.

“It’s me. No screaming, got it?”

When she removed her hand, Nyx reached out and shakily poked at her cheek. The flesh was solid even if what she was seeing wasn’t and she traced Meg’s nose. “Mommy?”

Meg grinned. “That’s right, Nyxie. Remember how I looked yesterday?”

Nyx nodded, slowly, still staring at her wide-eyed. 

“Imagine me looking like that. Like a game, okay?”

Nyx blinked, just once and slowly like a tiny owl, and as Meg watched she could see her fear leaving her. Meg stared back and saw in her daughter’s eyes a sort of calm acceptance on that small face that hinted this might not be something she hadn’t seen before. It made her wonder how long Nyx had been able to see demons and never said anything. 

How long had she been blinded against what her daughter could be and what would that blindness cost her?

It made her angry just thinking about it but Nyx distracted her when she suddenly launched off the bed into her arms. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck in a tiny chokehold and started to murmur that she’d been scared. Meg blinked, for a moment back to being pure demon and not sure what else to do in response to the open affection. Nyx’s gentleness slowly wore at her and sighing she hugged her back. 

“You okay?” Meg asked and felt Nyx nod against the crook of her neck. “Need me to beat those guys up?”

A shake of the head and Meg stood up slowly, finding it easier to lift her than she had before. Even though she still felt drained, muscle memory and old power was remembering what it was and kept her from dropping her daughter even in her exhaustion. Nyx clung to her as Meg walked to the window and stared out at the parking lot. Castiel was waiting and she had the suspicion that he had every intention of talking this over to death the moment she let down her guard and let him close. 

_The last thing she needed, wanted, was_ _**him** _ _._

Grinding her teeth together, she glanced at the Impala on the far side of the parking lot, where the dirt drive wasn’t so thick with mud. Go figure. Dean wouldn’t want his precious thing dirtied and ruined. At the least they’d kept Nyx safe so she could give them a pass for that.

Close by, a truck rumbled down the strip of highway and Meg watched its path thoughtfully. Another pass of cars, campers and trucks, all headed out of town and she started to get an idea. Holding tight to Nyx, she looked thoughtfully at her one hand, still stained and moist with her own blood.

_She couldn’t stay still now. If she did then she was as good as trapped._

That her mind was working faster than it should while confused by too much anger and pain, wasn’t something she even bothered to think about right.

“Nyx, do you feel like playing a game?” Meg asked and she felt the girl look up. She glanced down at her, boosting her up as she began to draw a small sigil on her own palm. “We’re gonna go on a trip but you have to be extra quiet.”

Those blue eyes looked at her quizzically as they walked back to the ed. “No monsters?”

“Nope. No monsters.” Meg picked up the torn toy for Nyx and held it out for her with a grin. “Promise.”

~~

Dean grabbed a couple of beers from the bar fridge and sat down next to Castiel, stretching his long legs out as he held out a bottle to him. Castiel’s eyes were shut as he rested his head back on the door, looking as if he was mediating, but at Dean’s impatient nudge his hand lifted up. He took the bottle blindly and lifted it to his lips, taking a long sip before letting it dangle between his own raised knees. Dean watched him for a moment before he took a drink himself, glancing at where Sam was dozing away on the couch again.

Grinning wryly, he clinked his bottle against Castiel’s.

“Here’s to family, eh?” he asked and Castiel opened his eyes.

“This isn’t what I expected,” he admitted and Dean snorted.

“What did you expect? A moment of Meg losing her shit on you and then everything gets all normal and nuclear family?” He shook his head. “Come on, Cas, you’re not that naive.”

“I’d hoped to talk to her before coming back to see Nyx. To make her understand but she’s very unstable right now.”

“You buried the demon, Cas. You didn’t just hide her, you buried her and you forced her to it.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I know why you did it. I get it. I mean I had you wipe Lisa’s memory though that hurt like a bitch for me. So I understand.”

When the angel looked over at him, Dean shook his head. “But you know things just don’t bounce back like we hope. Not for us.”

Castiel closed his eyes and leaned back, his head thumping into the door. “If only things could have been different.” He winced as he thought back over the past few years. “Though I imagine they would have only been worse in the end.”

“Well, there are positives, right?” Dean nudged him in the side. “Meg and Nyx are alive. Maybe things won’t ever be the same but they are here and at least you can keep an eye on them.”

Castiel hesitated, eyes opening again and his gaze slowly dragging down the opposite wall. “I guess.”

“So we keep them safe and maybe everything will pan out.” Dean heard him scoff. “I’m allowed to be optimistic.”

“It’s super creepy coming from you,” Sam called out without even opening his eyes. Dean glared at him. 

“Stow it, Sammy.” 

Grumbling, Sam rolled over to face the back of the couch.

“Do you actually think any of this could end well?” Castiel asked, looking away from his scrutiny of the wall to face him. Dean returned the intense look, seeing under the way Castiel tried to look so casual. He could see his desperation and his unhappiness, how badly he wanted to believe something like this could be fixed. When he had been human he had been more resigned to his fate; this wasn’t that Castiel.

Sometimes Dean forgot how the angel had been during those long nine months before Nyx had been born. How careful and yet protective he’d been of them all, as if he’d been given a renewed purpose. As if that had been a fragment of stopped time before the world started again. Never-mind everything that had happened during it; gods and demons, trials and desperation. It had become a distant memory thanks to the whirlwind of the past few years. 

But it was memory that had been brought jarringly back to life thanks to a demon and her child, and Dean wondered if Castiel had ever really let any of it go.

He doubted it.

“Dean?” Castiel was still staring at him so he shrugged.

“I hope it does. Not like they are going anywhere without us, you know. Gotta have hope in something,” Dean admitted finally. Castiel’s eyes narrowed a little, thoughtfully staring at him and then at the floor, and his expression became rapt. One hand lifted to press against the door and Dean thought for a second that he was going to zap in. It would be like Cas, he figured, to just decide to be the angel of the Lord and force Meg to listen.

But he saw Castiel’s blue eyes dart back and forth as he stared at the floor, like he was searching for something. When he leapt to his feet, Dean stared up at him in bewilderment. 

“Cas?”

“They’ve moved.”

“What?” Sam rolled over a little to look at them. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I mean…” Castiel reached down and yanked Dean out of the way, ignoring his startled cursing. He shoved the connecting door open and walked in, leaving both brothers to watch him before he leaned heavily on the frame. “Oh no.”

“Cas?” Sam pulled himself off the couch.

“They’re gone,” Castiel whispered, staring around the dark room. Dean and Sam followed him in, Dean pointing out to Sam that the spot where they’d put Nyx’s bag was empty. Castiel nervously clenched his fists as he glanced at the open bathroom door and then at the bed. Meg must have moved fast and quiet, he realized. How she had the strength to do that he wasn’t even sure. 

He took in a low breath and he walked into the room, eyes on the imprint in the blankets as he sat down on the bed. He ran his fingers over the sheets and comforter, feeling the crease in the sheets and comforter. It was still warm to the touch and it was easy to envision Nyx there until just minutes before. 

Castiel shut his eyes and before either Winchester could stop him he disappeared.

~~

_Purgatory…_

The alpha vampire settled into a low crouch as he watched the body twitch left, then right, but still not rise. Every alpha and pureblood in Purgatory, regardless of species, had come to pay tribute to her; before she’d never returned home, having been locked away in Hell, but now she was home. Whether or not her body would ever rise again was something no one knew. But the alphas did not stop what they were doing; they were the first to come here after all. There were plans, schemes, spells, that they could try after years spent in this damned place; every alpha had some sort of magic and they were connected the Mother in their own ways.

They began to work their blood magic slowly. Feeding it to the corpse, trying to force it to repair faster than any other could, and using it in rituals to worship her.

No one left the body alone for long. Without them who knew what would come for the body and they were guarding it with more jealousy than they guarded their own territories. Strange, the alpha thought as he watched the twitching, how bringing her back from Hell had somehow caused the souls in Purgatory to make alliances once again. 

The pieces of her not rotted or torn were fragments of something pure and awe-inspiring to the creatures in Purgatory. She was their mother, their meaning for life. The alpha gingerly reached out and touched the mud-streaked skin where an incision had left her pelvis gaping open, so that as she continued to reproduce eggs they would be exposed in the pit of her womb. It had repelled them all until those hatchlings had come out. Strange little creatures that were more like spiders and bugs than anything else; they crawled into shadows and then disappeared into flickers of bright light. The lights never left the Mother’s body for long, surrounding her in the form of little orbs that formed a bed on the dirt.

Life was springing forth in Purgatory as Eve continued to create her terrible children.

The alpha stroked her hand. “Our mother,” he prayed aloud. He was old, so old that he had been in Purgatory, had survived in Purgatory, for longer than any other creature he’d known. His brother still lived topside but he had long since succumbed to the pull of Purgatory. Killed centuries ago, he’d couldn’t remember much except this world. He ruled his nest he had made here and had never cared for much else. He had only moved out to bring the Mother back to them all.

It made this out of character slip-up fatal for him as an axe-head sank deep into his neck and with a crack severed his head from his body.

The vampire who’d made the killing blow hoisted the makeshift bone-axe to his shoulder and grinned. “Keep an eye out, boss,” he scolded as the body slumped and fell. The bloody stump of the neck began to spurt blood onto the woman’s body it had fallen against.

Benny had lost track of time long since coming back to save Sam Winchester. Instead of fighting Purgatory’s depraved games, he revelled in it. He’d become the hunter instead of the hunted and decided to fight for the fun. It no longer mattered if the fighting meant something or if it was just for sport. It was bloody and fun.

He had missed this in that half-year spent topside.

Baring his fangs, Benny took in a deep breath and realized that the other alphas were close. The variety of them made his nose ache from the stench of their bodies. They were too close, maybe, and he should be moving on before they realized he had killed one of the big guns in Purgatory.

The other monsters had been up to something since coming back from Hell. A place Benny had not been interested in though he’d seen them all going in and out of that tiny doorway. It left more time for him to stake out his own territory and build more traps.

But still, it was worth a look now to see what had been so all-fire important to take back from the demons. 

Kneeling down, he used his weapon as a crutch for his weight and peered at the half-ripped face with its one unblinking eye. The skin reeked of ash and something sweet, not unlike blood and sweat mixed with jasmine. The alpha’s blood was stronger in odour and he wrinkled his nose in disgust as it mixed with the meaty, sweat sour stench.

"Ah, cher," he said as he took another deep breath and committed the smell to memory. "Whoever you are, I am sure you have looked better."

But underneath that dismissiveness he tried to feel, Benny could feel something about her. As if she was resonating in power and he knew her. The way he had known every member of his nest. 

The way he had known his maker and Andrea the moment he had gone back with Dean.

Reaching out, he gingerly touched that clammy skin and felt a zap like electricity. It fizzled and hissed up his arm, making it go numb for a few moments before settling back into a warm tingle. Startled, Benny flexed his fingers and shook his hand a few times before looking back to see the single eye staring back at him now.

Benny was so focussed in his frank appraisal of the body that he missed how the alpha’s blood, now soaking the ground beneath the Mother’s skin, caused grass shoots to spring up around her. He missed how the wound in her belly seemed to widen just a little more as the eggs she carried changed colour to burnished copper red. How her torn skin began to heal as the blood touched it and the remaining damage to her body was fitted with new flesh and tiny black scars.

"What are they up to?" Benny looked up at the creatures wandering close-by in the bushes, knowing he should move on. Move and get back to the tiny bit of the forest that he knew like the back of his hand.

But before he could stand, something slid around his ankle and held him still. Looking down, he stared at the tendrils of grey smoke curling around him like strange chains, and he flicked his tongue across his lower lip.  _What have we here?_  he thought to himself and the tendrils slowly took form as a hand lifted and touched his ankle, stroking the skin beneath his trousers.

The spark he had felt before suddenly became a full shock that made his eyes widen.

"What the…" He glanced up from the shadows of his hat to stare at the half-ripped face, noticing that a second eye had regrown and opened. There were two orange tinged eyes that stared at him for the longest moment before blinking and revealing milky white consistency.

“Child.” The voice was female, soft and gentle and he shuddered at the slow way it hit his nerves. “How long have I been gone for? I was asleep for so long.”

Backing away, Benny jerked his leg free just before the face repaired itself slowly from decaying ruin to that of a beautiful woman. She lay on the ground, limbs slowly healing until the skin was smooth completely to his sight and her eyes slowly darkened to earthy brown. But despite her beauty, the only thing Benny felt was a growing sense of horror.

He knew who she was and every instinct told him to run before she saw his face, before he became trapped by her.

By the time the alphas came back, Benny was long gone. Instead, they found their Mother sitting on the riverbank with her toes dipping into the cool water. Leaning back on her elbows with her feet dangling, she was almost innocent and human in appearance. A few growled, thinking maybe a human had slipped through again. But when she looked over her shoulder at the growing amount of them coming out from the trees, something in her eyes made them all bow to a knee. It made her smile to see them all there and as she looked back out at the muted sunlit water, she tilted her head back.

“You waited for me. It is time I reward that.”

~~

_One week later…_

The old truck bounced hard as it hit a speed bump on the way into the diner parking lot, suspension grunting and groaning as its tires spun. The man driving it looked as old as his clunker of a truck and drove as if he was about to crash it into every other car, but he’d managed to get them there in one piece. He had driven over fifty miles after his midnight shift with just the promise of a pretty smile and a woe-begone story. He hadn’t figured out that he’d been played with yet and likely never would.

Meg still found that twisting humans around her little finger was a past-time she actually enjoyed.

It was safer now to travel with the families and seniors who would stop to pick them up compared to how she had used to travel. Had it just been her, she would have risked the lonely truckers looking to cop a feel and the sport cars with unsuspecting yuppies. But she had Nyx now and she still felt too sore and too weak to do more than resign herself to depending on the humans to get them from point to point. Even that first teleport out to the highway had drained her too much. Using her blood to create hex bags and sigils hadn’t helped her keep her strength, it only kept her from being found.

But it had been worth it. A week of silence though they had had to keep on the road while Meg tried to decide what to do. Nyx still treated it like an adventure and hadn’t even caused much of a fuss when her mother insisted they travel at all hours of the night. Thankfully she could sleep practically anywhere and was enjoying eating whatever she wanted instead of the strict meals Linda used to make for her. Nyx would just smile at her mother and hold her hand as they waited for their next ride. Meg was pretty sure it was Nyx’s big blue eyes and cherub-like cuteness that hooked the old people into picking them up. Certainly wasn’t her anymore.

Meg wasn’t even sure where she was going but she knew what she felt. She wanted to get to a safe place, far away from other demons, from angels and monsters, and try to figure out, finally, why she’d been brought back so many times. Each lonely road and motel room though only kept showing her how alone she was and Nyx’s presence reminded her that she might be risking more than she knew running like this.

Feeling Nyx tuck herself up closer as she napped, Meg rubbed her shoulder gently and stared out at the diner as her ride slowed down. At two in the morning, it was so dark out that the bright neon open sign actually hurt her eyes.

“Winter’s gonna hit hard this year, I say,” the driver said. Meg made a hum of agreement as he pulled up to the curb. “Sorry, little lady, this is as far as I go.”

“Thanks for the lift,” Meg said as she grabbed her bag and slid out the passenger seat. The driver’s eyes lingered on Nyx thoughtfully as Meg zipped up her jacket and made sure her hands were covered.

“Your girl is mighty little. Is this being on the road good for her?” he asked and Meg ignored him as she scooped Nyx up and slammed the door shut using her hip. The entire truck rattled from the force of it and the driver huffed as he watched Meg pass in front of the headlights.

“Real friendly. Well, that’s what you get bein’ on the road this time of night, I guess,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes anyway. Even single sinners needed some help from on high, he figured. A religious man, he’d been happy to help the strange woman and her little daughter get to a safer spot. God’s will, he figured to himself, and the Lord did work in mysterious ways. Folding his hands on the steering wheel, he murmured a low prayer to the angels.

“Lord, you ain’t got to listen to a sinner like me, but there’s a lovely little woman out here who needs you to watch over her and her little girl. Might as well send them a few extra guardian angels. Kid like that should be protected,” he prayed. He nodded, happy with that late night prayer, and unfolded his hands. Waving to them, he drove away and with a pleased smile he’d figure he’d done his duty tonight. When he reached over and cranked the volume on the local station, the unusual whine of static and white noise made him slap the radio hard before turning it off. So much for a pleasant drive back.

Meg ignored the low rattle of the truck pulling away and gave Nyx a squeeze as she balanced her on her hip. “Time to wake up, monster.”

Muttering against her neck, Nyx yawned and opened her eyes to look at the diner. Both of them could smell the grease and fried cooking, and after another yawn Nyx pointed at it. Meg was surprised when she started to chatter nonsense excitedly, her childish lisp fighting to express how hungry she was. She looked so excited by the prospective of food that she squirmed down out of Meg’s arms and clutched her hand instead, almost pulling her along towards the steps.

Meg followed, one eye on the lookout as she did some quick math. She’d stolen quite a bit of money and the three hundred plus credit cards she’d lifted off the last driver would get them by for a little longer. She watched Nyx stop at the flower pots and grinned as she reached out and ripped one of the flower heads off to sniff it. That was her girl.

Nyx had adjusted strangely well to what her mother was and Meg hadn’t even had time to talk to her about it. She just talked about everything else and accepted it.

At least, Meg had to guess she accepted it. It might only be a matter of time before something exploded and she was frightened by her own mother’s true face. It did make Meg wonder just how different Nyx could be without her ever having realized it.

Shouldering the duffel bag higher, Meg followed Nyx up the sidewalk towards the diner and caught her hand back in hers as a few men came out of the diner. They looked at her, then saw the small child, and gave dismissive shakes of the heads. Apparently single mothers out this way were still taboo, Meg thought wryly. That was better for her since it kept any one off her back that she’d have to get rid of later.

They were almost at the foot of the steps when Meg heard a tell-tale flutter and felt the shift in the air of something almost electric.

Warning signs that she knew too well.

Closing her eyes, she pulled Nyx to a stop as she stared at the diner. “How did you find me?” she asked out-loud without turning. Nyx looked up at her but Meg still stared at the steps. She knew exactly who was behind her.

“I waited for something to show up, some sign or some signal. I’d tracked you to this county a few hours ago. Then your last ride prayed to the angels.” Castiel’s voice was low, nearly throbbing with anger and exhaustion, and it brought back fuzzy memories of another time when she’d kept him on the run for weeks.

“ _Your stalking is getting better.”_

“ _I heard the radio. It was a mere matter of pinpointing which station via frequency.”_

As Meg turned around, trying to be calm, she felt Nyx press tightly against her as she hid just behind her legs. Castiel stood on the sidewalk, coat still moving from the breeze and looking like the angel of the Lord he always claimed to be. The very air around him felt threatening and he looked it as well but weariness softened him just a little. Castiel’s eyes were on her, his rumpled coat and messy hair matching the exhausted lines of his features.

Meg had to force herself not to teleport out right then and there.

“Cookie for you, you found us.”

“I didn’t expect you to leave.” He didn’t look away from her eyes even when she arched an eyebrow at him. “I had thought you would stay.”

“Yeah? Got all I want right here, why would I need to stay? Nostalgia?” Meg snapped and she felt Nyx’s hands tighten around her legs as she peeked out at Castiel. She knew that something was wrong when she heard the raised voice her mother was using. Biting into her lower lip, she held on tight to Meg and stared up at the man who was making her mother angry.

“I didn’t expect you,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, not seeing Nyx’s hiding, “to come all the way out to Oklahoma for the sake of running away from me.”

Meg ground her teeth together at the condescendingly cool way he smiled at her.

“That is what you’re doing, isn’t it? I expected more from you.”

Meg stared at him. She’d be impressed by his attempt to manipulate her if it didn’t make her angry as well. “This is your plan, Castiel?” she asked, pitching her voice low. “Win me back by making me even angrier with you?”

“I did it for you,” he said, voice just as low when he realized that Nyx was staring up at them. He glanced down and met Nyx’s gaze. She made a small sound and hid behind Meg again. Castiel gave a crooked half-smile and then looked back up at the demon glaring at him. “And for her.”

“Go away.”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t do that again. Not again and not now.”

“I can make you,” Meg warned and he stared down at her. He smirked a little, as if daring her, and with some astonishment she realized he would be willing to call her bluff on that. “Just give me your angel sword, Castiel. We can see who’s laughing.”

“We need to talk. About the fire. Let me have that at least.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue. “Please. It concerns Nyx. She can have something to eat while we talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Meg snapped childishly. 

“Not even if it is about Nyx and how to keep her safe?” he countered, catching her where he knew she was vulnerable. At her name, the little girl peeked out at him and Castiel stared down at her. Meg followed his eyes and Nyx tugged on her hand now that she had her attention.

“I’m hungry,” she insisted. “Hungry.”

“Fine! Just… fine.” Meg could sense that she was being manipulated by both of them, though unintentionally from Nyx. “I’ll buy something to feed you, monster. Let’s go.”

She turned to go, intent on ignoring the angel, and he caught her arm. The contact nearly burned through her leather jacket and she turned slowly to face him.

“Let me go, Castiel.”

“No.” He stopped himself and took a deep breath before relaxing his hold on her arm. “Please. Give me some time.”

Feeling Nyx tugging on her other hand, Meg closed her eyes and counted to ten before she exploded. “Fine. You can say whatever you want to say then go. You get ten minutes or however long it takes to get Nyx into a food coma, we clear?”

“Yes”” He let her go as Meg turned away. He watched her go up the steps, following her even when she let the door smack back towards him, and he shook his head fondly at her rudeness. He glanced down to see Nyx happily inspecting the booths to find the one she wanted to sit in before choosing one in the corner where she could look out the window. Meg snapped out an order to the tired looking waitress for coffee and menus as she followed, which Castiel softened by gently smiling to show they were just tired. The waitress rolled her eyes to let him know she’d heard it all before.

When he made it to the table, Nyx sat across from him with Meg fishing out crayons from the bag and handing them over to her to draw on the paper placemat. Slipping in across from them, Castiel realized how awkward this was when Nyx stared at him curiously, biting into her lower lip. As if she was trying to figure something out. She glanced up at Meg, pointing at him and making a sound.

“He just can’t find another table,” Meg explained as she stretched her legs out under the table. Nyx frowned and looked at him again, clearly thinking something else. Then her eyes dropped and she began to peel the label off her red crayon.

Meg caught him staring at Nyx before he could stop himself.

“She doesn’t know what you are,” she said bluntly.

“She knows you’re a demon though?” he asked and she blinked.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s likely what I am won’t be a secret for much longer.”

“What is she going to see? The species that makes you a pain in my ass?” Ignoring his glare, Meg leaned back as the waitress delivered coffee and waited patiently for their order. “What do you want, kid?”

Nyx screwed up her face, staring at the frowning stick figure she’d been drawing. “Don’t know.”

Sensing the waitress’ boredom, Castiel cleared his throat. “Pancakes?” he asked her. “Please? She can share with me.”

Meg’s glare was a warning but he ignored it when he saw Nyx staring at him curiously. Knowing he wasn’t the greatest with children sometimes, he stared back. “Okay?”

She nodded and looked back down at her crayons.

Meg waited until the waitress was gone and Nyx was drawing again, her back to them as she used the windowsill for her desk, before she spoke again. “So what do you want?”

He thought of a million answers with the first one being likely the worst to say right now.

“We need to talk,” he said instead.

“I am done talking. But unless it concerns Nyx, I don’t see what you and I have to talk about right now.” Her face screwed up again as if that tasted wrong in her mouth. “Not even sure why Nyx should matter to you.”

The sudden chill in the air made her look up from the table to see him staring at her.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, innocent and bitter all at once.

“You have no idea how I have felt or how I feel now. I’ve been waiting for this, even if it isn’t how I pictured it.” He stopped and shook his head. “She matters. You matter, Meg.”

“If you think for a second I’m not going to stay angry and ready to kill over this, you have another thing coming.”

“No… not that.” He leaned back and wrapped his hands around his coffee cup, closing his eyes as he raised it to his lips. “I spent three years waiting for you. I can wait longer.”

Confused, Meg arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re just going to lie down and wait?” Her teeth glinted in a smirk as he opened his eyes to stare at her. “You’ll be a long time waiting, angel.”

He took a long drink, eyes never leaving her face. Meg met his scrutiny with barely concealed hostility and then looked away out the window, fingers tapping the table. Hyperaware of his presence, she made a point of ignoring him even when the waitress came back and set the plates in front of them. Castiel didn’t move to touch it and with one eye on his hands she slid the plate over to Nyx and cut a few pieces for her. Nyx was still drawing, still talking to her imaginary friends with that low singing voice she liked to use, but at Meg’s order she put down the crayons. She popped a syrup soaked piece into her mouth and chewed, massacring the other pieces of pancake with her fork.

Meg finally turned back at Castiel to see him staring at Nyx. Now that her memory, her true self, was back in order, she recognized that he was looking at Nyx the way he had when she was newborn. As if he couldn’t believe she was there in front of him finally.

When he caught Meg watching at him, he nervously looked down at the table.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered. When she didn’t answer, he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. But he didn’t keep going; he simply kept stealing tiny glances at them as if he was afraid they were both going to disappear.

“We going to talk or are you just going to stalk me now?” Meg demanded eventually.

“I’m not even sure where to start.”

“How about right when you wiped my memory, buried what I am, and left me on my own with Nyx?” she snapped out. Her daughter glanced up at her and then at Castiel, and both angel and demon knew she understood.

“He’s a bad man,” she said to Meg though it was more a question.

“Got that right,” she snapped, eyes never leaving Castiel. He stared back at her.

“I did it to protect you, both of you.”

Both demon and child studied him and Castiel had the feeling he was about to be interrogated.

“Nyx?” Meg asked and the little girl looked up at her. “Stay and draw. I’m going to just talk to Mr. Castiel here.”

Something in her voice warned him he had no choice and he stared at Nyx. She stared back, swallowing another chunk of pancake, before she shrugged and kept eating. But as badly as he wanted to stay, Castiel slid out of the booth, following Meg to the small alcove near the diner door.

She turned on her heel and immediately began to rail at him. She was peaking in hushed whispers that were tight with anger and emotion and all he could do was stare and wonder that so much was directed solely at him. He wasn’t even sure he heard a word she was saying. Leaning against the doorway, ignoring the curious looks of the truckers and other patrons, he stared down at Meg and felt something turn over inside of him.

He’d spent a week worrying over them. He should be furious with her.

But all he felt was relief that she was even staring at him now, that he could feel her pushing at him with her anger and darkness and thorny beauty and he felt some comfort that she was so vibrant now.

“You’re not listening to a word I say,” Meg snapped suddenly and he blinked. He stammered out an apology that she ignored. “I said get lost.”

“I need to protect you.”

“From what?” Meg sniffed, arrogantly looking away at where Nyx was pushing food around on her plate now. “I have to protect Nyx. That’s my only cause right now.”

“We can’t talk here.”

“It’s here or nowhere. I have to find a place for Nyx to sleep for the night and I need to get something of a plan.” Mockingly, she leaned forward. “You’re not invited. I don’t want you here with us.”

He flinched and backed up a step. “Fine.”

Surprisingly, he was gone from her sight in a heartbeat. As if he was storming off to prove a point.

Meg shook her head and headed back to Nyx. Leave it to Castiel to throw her off balance with almost flawless ease. She’d spent a week —  _a goddamn week—_  trying to find her footing again, and getting nowhere. The only constant had been Nyx and now that he’d shown up she felt strange again. The little girl smiled at her as she came back.

“Full?” Meg asked as she sat down beside her, spearing a bit of leftover into her mouth. Nyx nodded and leaned against her. Meg chewed and stared at the syrup-stained placemat that Nyx had been drawing on. “What’s that?”

“Me!” Nyx delightfully pointed out the smoke lines, the small wings, the halo and the black eyes. Meg frowned, looked at it and then at Nyx.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you.”

“Me if I was you. It’s me!” Nyx said with a roll of her eyes but she continued to talk so fast it seemed like her sentences were overlapping. “When I go swimming. Can we go to the beach? What’s a beach? Ducks? Ducks at beach?”

The childish lisp tripped over the words but Meg understood her maybe too clearly though she had to piece apart her sentences.

“Nyxie, are you dreaming about beaches now?”

“Like the water.” Nyx drew a v-shaped bird and sighed. “Sad now. He was nice.”

“Yeah well.” Meg knew exactly who she was talking about. “Don’t get used to him.”

Nyx’s puzzled frown didn’t hide how rebellious she looked. “Bought me pancakes.”

“No, Momma is buying you pancakes. He left before paying.” Sensing Nyx about to throw a tired tantrum, she waved her hand. The waitress came back, slipping the bill on the table. But she stayed, lingering, her eyes on Meg.

“So, it’s about time we saw you.”

Meg tightened up as she realized what she was looking at . They’d been so lost in their arguing before that she hadn’t realized that the waitress standing before them was a demon now. Castiel was gone and she’d been so distracted by Nyx that she hadn’t even felt the rush of demonic power. Meg instinctively pushed Nyx behind her a bit.

Half the diner was, when Meg looked around, now demonic and she hadn’t felt it. _Goddamn it, Castiel,_ she cursed in her head, _you can still muddle me up._  She hadn’t even felt their presence or the spark up her body that let her know that her own kind was there. Waiting to gank her too, she bet.

The demon smirked at her as she leaned on the table. “Hello, Meg.” Her eyes went to Nyx. “So, this is the little bastard. Weren’t you a naughty demon to have her?”

Meg glanced again, this time at the exits to see them all guarded by a demon. Twisting around, she looked up and recognized the demon. It had been years ago but she knew this one. Old faces never changed.

“Dina. Long time no see. Last time I saw you, you were trying to get the Legion raised under Lucifer. How’d that go?”

The demon’s black eyes flicked with unholy light. “You remember it at the most inopportune time, Meg. Soon enough if Abaddon gets opportunity, the angels won’t dare invade Hell again. Nor will the monsters.”

That had been news to her. Meg was careful not to show it as she grinned and leaned over.

“Heard there was trouble in Hell, the only reason that army would get organized. That’s a shame if it didn’t work out in the first place for you. Ranks must be getting thin if you’re trying to bring back the old ones.” She was gambling on buying some time while looking for information, but she was aware of Nyx shaking beside her. She was muttering under her breath, cuddling her toy close as she hid behind her mother for protection.

“Mm, monsters, Abaddon’s war and Crowley’s deals. All of it is important but Meg?” Dina leaned back, her apron looking stained by blood instead of flour. “We were sent to see if you were alive. You and this abomination. Looks like the intel was correct.”

Her teeth gnashed aggressively at Nyx when the girl looked up. “Hello, sweeting. You look delicious.”

“What do you want, Dina?” Meg blocked Nyx with her body as best as she could.

“Me? Nothing really. I’m just a foot soldier and waiting for my superiors so I can have my orders. Like you used to. It’s been almost four years, Meg. A lot has changed in Hell. Just one thing hasn’t changed.” Dina leaned forward. “The price on that pretty head of yours. All thought you were dead, sister. Not that we mourned you. Still, better dead than being an angel’s whore and mother to his bastard there.”

Meg suddenly, desperately, wished she’d stolen Castiel’s sword before he had left.

Dina was looking at her oddly though. “But you’re different. You’re you… but you’re not _you_.”

“Tell me about it,” Meg said and she subtly grabbed Nyx’s hand. A low ping sound in her ears made her glance down to see Nyx staring at the demon, her lips in a tight line.

“Oh, Meg.” The older woman glared back at her. “You’re not going anywhere. The King and Queen want to see you. And your little…thing there.”

Meg didn’t correct her, wanting to keep her daughter protected by not telling the demons her name.

“Are you going to come along quietly, or struggle?” Dina’s eyes glinted. “Please struggle.”

She lurched forward and Meg shoved Nyx under the table as she met the demon halfway, hand digging into her long braid. The other demons moved forward as Meg took a butter knife and slammed it into the demon’s hand, pinning it to the table. Dina screeched at the blunt pain and Meg quickly straddled her chest.

“You come near us, I’ll kill you,” she threatened as she held her by the throat. The demon snarled up at her.

“You against all of us? You think we came here without being prepared? You are stupid, Meg.” Dina lifted her head towards her. “You always were so loyal but stupid.”

Something snagged around Meg, a coil of dark power, and threw her across the room into the diner wall closer to the kitchen. It was enough to make her vision blur in and out, the shock of pain catching her breath. The force dragged her up into the wall and pinned her against the menu board.

“Oh, really, this is just too much. It is like having a birthday all over again”

The slow British drawl made her close her eyes.

“I knew that letting them all run loose to find you would be worth it.” Crowley stepped out from the kitchen. “Hello, Meg.”

“Crowley.” She focussed, her power warring against his, and slowly she came down to her feet though it cost her some strength. The way everything flooded into her - _memory, power, darkness_ \- made her stomach turn over and she swayed dizzily. “Long time.”

“So you are alive. What a devious little angel precious Castiel was. He must have learned something from you after all.” He dusted off his hands and stepped out in front of the demons to face her.

“You’re ignoring monsters in Hell and whatever hijinks Abaddon is going to pull. Just for little old me?” Meg smirked. “How nice.”

But instead of gloating, he gave her a confused look. He obviously hadn’t expected her to know any of that. “What did you say?”

He looked back at Dina who shrugged, eyes on the floor as she nursed her bloody hand.

“Go get her little bastard then.” He crossed his arms and took a few steps toward Meg, tapping his finger against his beard. “You know, whore, we always come down to this. You parry, I thrust. You let your guard down, I win.”

She kept smirking. “What makes you think I did that?”

“Sir?” Dina’s voice from the other side of the diner made them both look. “That brat is gone.”

“What?” He turned to Meg. “You annoying little cockroach. Nothing changes, huh?”

Meg felt the snap of his power curl inside her but her own resisted it with more strength than she really felt. “She’s a smart kid. She won’t come out.”

“You had time get a bit of power, a bit of your old evil bitch routine back, huh?” Crowley leaned in. “What a smart cookie. She must be a special kid for you of all people to protect her but where would you hide her?”

She simply stared back.

“You know ordinarily I have patience for the long drawn out torture but not this time around. This time I need answers and after the week I’ve had, I am just not in the mood, Meg.” With a low singing hum, an angel blade fell to his hand. “Remember how this felt the last time? I really have no worry about you coming back if I do this again.”

Her eyes locked on the blade as shock and memory came back to her.

_She could even feel its bite as it found its home inside her._

A sudden low scream and a glow of light made them both look over to the other side of the diner again. The rest of the demons cowered back in surprise as the light dissipated. The hum of Grace hung in the air and Meg stared at Castiel as he impassively dropped Dina’s meatsuit to the ground.

“Castiel. Should have guessed you would still be sniffing around her like she was a bitch in heat,” Crowley said, loathing in his voice. The angel narrowed his eyes at him a little and then stepped over the body, ignoring the demons behind him.

“I warned you.”

“Me? I was just having a chit chat with dear sweet Meg here.” Crowley smirked. “How is the happy reunion going?”

Meg slipped by him, knowing he wouldn’t strike with Castiel there. Crowley’s frustration was obvious as he watched her move to the table and peek under it. She saw two large blue eyes staring back at her from under the booth seat, and the shadows moved as Meg’s power let them fade a little.

“I’m here,” Meg murmured, her voice singsong, and in the next moment Nyx was in her arms. Grabbing the bag and the toy, Meg looked at the doors to find them still blocked off. She held Nyx tighter to her to keep from any of them seeing her face clearly and to keep Nyx from seeing their truefaces.

“Word to the wise. Those two are the least of your worries, Castiel. Not with the rumours going around.” Crowley smiled. “You’ll need my help, sooner or later. Make sure you got a bartering chip or I may not play so nice.”

He looked at the surrounding demons. “Though, to be honest, I can’t figure out why I’m playing nice in the first place right now. Maybe you need some roughing up.”

“Hold on to me,” Castiel warned Meg lowly as they both backed away from Crowley. Nyx squirmed in her arms. When he caught Meg’s annoyed look, he chanced looking away from Crowley. “This is the only way.”

“Only way out is through us. You’re amped up, angel, but not that much.” Crowley leaned against the bar counter and took a fry off the plate off a possessed patron’s plate. He sniffed it and then tossed it to the floor in disgust. “The things humans put in their bodies.”

Castiel lifted his hand and felt Meg reluctantly slip her hand into his other one, her eyes shutting. The glow of light that suddenly spiralled out of his hand was so brilliant that she could see it even behind her eyelids but she didn’t hear the demons howling. No death rattles or the sounds of demons escaping his Grace. Nothing. She could only feel that shift in the air and the way his hand gripped hers as Nyx stayed tightly held against her.

~~

When they reappeared, Castiel had taken them to the only safe spot he knew nearby: the Winchester’s bunker. The old metal door made a familiar, comforting sight and he sighed in open relief before looking at the pair holding onto him. Nyx was pressed between them, still shaking with fear and cold from the night air, and he let his other hand drift over her dark hair for a fleeting touch to comfort her. Meg’s eyes were still shut and she was so close to him that he could feel the press of her body against his, her breath on his neck.

Knowing he was taking a risk, he let himself enjoy the moment before he dipped his head low and murmured for her to open her eyes.

They were black when she did, lifting to stare up at him as he stared down.

The moment broke when she realized how close they were. She shoved away and knelt down, setting Nyx on her feet and dusting her off. Castiel looked around, eventually closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath to steady himself against what he felt.

“You okay?” Meg asked her and Nyx nodded, looking perplexed by where they were. She wrinkled her small nose and tightly held her unicorn to her chest.

“Where’d we go?”

Meg looked as well and then up at Castiel. “Yes, Castiel, where are we?”

He ignored the accusation in her eyes. “We’re going to be safe. This is safe.”

“Oh yeah,” Meg held onto Nyx’s hand, “safe as that firetrap was for us in the end.”

He glared at the back of her head as she headed into the bunker.

The bunker hadn’t changed much since Meg had last seen it. Still hundreds of books lining the shelves, weapons, tables and chairs stacked in no real order. It looked more lived in than it had before and was warmer than it had been in the past. But now there was the faint odour of smoke in it, underlying the old must of books, and she shot Castiel a look.

“There was a fire. When we were trying to defeat Abaddon’s forces.”

“Smells like it was a success,” she drawled and he rolled his eyes.

Nyx stared around in open wonder at the high walls and shelves as they came to the balcony overlooking the centre floor. She pointed things out and tried to sound out the words on the books she could see but for all her excitement there was a thread of fear there. After the demons, Meg could hardly blame her.

Meg leaned over the railing, suspiciously looking for the Winchesters and not finding either of them. Or anything else that said they’d been around lately. When she leaned back, Castiel was watching her.

“Why’d you bring us here?” she demanded, ignoring the way Nyx let go of her hand to go look at the glass casing that contained a gold-cased dagger.

“It is safer than being in the open. And I want to talk to you. Nyx can sleep here and you can rest as well.”

“This place was a cage for me sometimes. You expect me not to believe you are going to stick me in one again?” Meg asked. But the fierceness that had been in her voice before had ebbed a little.

“I expect you to do what I know you will do. But I want to tell you about the past three years.”

“Cliffs Notes version I hope.” She turned away and he grabbed her arm.

“You need rest. You’re weak.”

“I’m not weak. I’m…”

“You should have been able to sense those demons and you couldn’t. I didn’t keep you safe to see you die because of that!” he snapped and Meg wrenched her arm out of his grip though she didn’t step away.

“I would love to see you…”

The clatter of Nyx making her way down the steps made Meg sigh and give up. Until the girl was in bed asleep, she couldn’t risk arguing and fighting with the angel. Knowing her luck, Nyx would set some weapon off and explode the bunker.

He caught her arm again, ignoring her irritated sigh. “Does she know?”

“About what?” She spied his desperate look at Nyx. “You being her father? No. Thought it was safer that way. She’s already having to handle her mom being a demon.” When he didn’t release her, she poked his side hard. “Going to let me go now? I want her to get some rest but if she gets wound up there’s no putting her to sleep.”

He let her go reluctantly and watched her follow Nyx down into the centre room. Resting his hands on the railing, he rubbed tiredly at his jaw and pictured another way this could have gone. Gratitude, reunion, happiness… perhaps something without all this uncertainty. God, he would have fought for all that.

Now he had to start over again.

But as he watched Nyx pointing out the strange pictures on the wall, sigils Dean had drawn as an experiment, he smiled and fished into his pocket for his small journal. He looked at the scribbles and numbers, and on the start of a new page he wrote down the date before putting the journal back in his pocket. Resolving to be patient, he reached for his phone next. He wasn’t sure the brothers would be thrilled by their new house guests.

~~

The werewolf howled as it charged through the brush, aiming for its prey with the deadly intent of a hungry beast. The tall young man looked like he was hunting and he’d been stupid enough to come into its territory. Central Kansas’s small crop of woods didn’t always make the perfect hunting ground and it was starving for a good kill. If this man was hunting on his ground, the werewolf would have to scare him off before it lost its original prey.

As it ran and pounced, something snagged on its leg, wrapping around in a noose and then hauling upwards with a whir.

The monster shrieked and roared as it was pulled around, silvery fur rippling in its fury. It swiped at the air and tried to swivel around to bite at the cable binding its leg but the noose simply tightened until the werewolf hung completely upside down from a tree.

Another man, smaller but better armed, grinned at it as he came within swiping distance. The werewolf roared and launched at his face but before it could get far it, a shotgun was shoved into its mouth.

“Might want to curb that,” Dean said. “Play nice and I won’t blow your brains out.”

The werewolf’s ears twitched.

“Change back, Mark,” he continued and the creature snarled. He cocked the gun and made sure the werewolf could see his finger on the trigger. “I know you can control it, pureblood. Do it.”

Slowly, the form rippled, from wolfish to human, and a naked dusky skinned man stared back at them from his upside-down tether. Unlike his other form, he was sinewy and small in stature and so unlike the massive werewolf he could shift to that Dean always second-guessed him. But they’d met before and he knew Mark was one of the few able to change so quickly.

"Winchesters," Mark growled, teeth still in fang form. "Should have known."

"That’s us. Why is your kind moving around?" Dean asked as Sam came up behind Mark and bound his hands behind his back.

"Bondage first. Kinky," the werewolf said, staring flirtatiously at Sam. "I like how your mind goes, big boy."

Sam ignored that and backed up.

"Your pack was running in Maine, last record we heard. We left you alone because you helped us out a while back. Now you’re in Kansas? What gives?"

Mark swivelled to face Dean. “Maybe I got bored.”

"Not likely. You guys were a quiet pack, I thought."

"Might have been." He rolled his eyes, blood still rushing to his head. "You going to kill me?"

"Thinking about it," Sam offered. "Your pack offed that bus of school kids on your way down, according to a few hunters."

The werewolf growled. “That wasn’t us. That was something else.”

"You mean another pack."

"I mean another monster. We’ve been smelling them all around. It’s why we left Maine last week. Ran close to the ground too. They were starting to show up in the wilds there. Became kill or be killed up there. I prefer the easy life."

"Sure you do." Dean rested the gun on his shoulder.

"What other monsters? Wendigo? Vampire?"

"Got me. They were pretty vicious and I didn’t want my pack too close. But there was some real territory scuffles. Lost two good pack members because of it."

Sam sighed. “You know, I think you’re lying.”

"Now why would I do that?" Mark asked as he rotated around again to face Sam. "Do you know many children it takes to fill up a werewolf? It is an awful lot of work and I would get bones in my teeth. I hate that."

Dean clicked his tongue and the pureblood smiled.

"Really? That’s your excuse for why it isn’t you. Bony kids?"

"I can tell you this though. Rumour through the underground, through the other purebloods, is that something big is going on in Hell and Purgatory. We can all feel it."

"What, like an alliance?" Sam asked. The thought sent a chill up his own spine.

"Like the monsters would work with demons. You both had a hand in leading us over to them anyway." Mark arched his back and both men stepped back as he changed a little, skin dappling with silver fur. "Something bigger. Let me loose."

"Still can’t figure out why I should," Dean said and the pureblood’s eyes fixed on his face.

"Because killing me is fun, I bet, but who is going to call off my pack? We’ll move on, back to Maine where the deer and the tourist play."

"You get twenty-four hours. Out of our state, you hear me?" Dean turned away.

"Hey, let me down!" Mark yelled at them as they walked away. "Guys! You can’t leave me hanging!"

"Watch me," Dean called out as he and Sam went to where the Impala was hidden in the bushes.

Sam waited for the car to be on the road before he finally said anything. “Letting werewolves go now?”

"We’ll let Garth know. I don’t think they’ve been killing humans unless threatened."

"So we are now thinking that there is a difference again?" Sam blinked at the dark highway. "Dean, I get that …"

"Sam, think about it. He just told us that there is something moving up in Maine, where his territory was the 100-Mile. Where we both got out of Purgatory." Dean shook his head. "I get hunting monsters but if something big is about to go down in Purgatory, I want to be ready for it. Which means research. And if we killed him, we’d get his small pack down around our heads."

Sam nodded and then flipped open his phone. “Garth’s sent a text. Kevin’s left the hospital and he took him in.”

"Good."

"Yeah I guess. Garth wants us to call him asap." Sam frowned. "Haven’t seen Cas all week either."

"He’s following Meg around I bet, " Dean muttered. "Here we go again with that mess."

"Maybe he’s got an idea." He scrolled through his phone and made a faint ‘oh’ sound. "We can ask him in a bit I guess. He’s at the bunker."

"What?" Dean looked at him as he gunned it out in front of a truck, weaving through traffic. "Since when?"

"Since he brought Nyx and Meg there."

"Oh… damn." Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Damn."

"You said it."

~~

Castiel settled in the couch in the common room. He remembered sitting here when the Winchesters had taken him in for a few nights. He’d spent some time staring at the ceiling and wishing for something. Anything. Human or angel… none of it had helped at the time. He’d overindulged in alcohol and drugs at one point, his heart even stopping from too much sleeping medication, and both brothers had resolved to keep him from doing that ever again. Then there had been the other time him and Dean had drunk themselves stupid and smashed half the room up as they played a game of impromptu golf.

Funny how the bunker held good and bad memories equally.

The click of heels made him roll his head on the back of the couch to spy Meg coming in to the room.

"Any booze in this dump?" Meg demanded. "Last time I wasn’t allowed to drink. Dean better not be holding out on me."

The angel had no intention of letting her know where the incredibly rare and expensive Scotch was. That would be pushing one too many of Dean’s buttons.

"Bottom cabinet," he called out and she continued to grumble as she searched. When she came out, wielding a bottle of cheaper bourbon triumphantly, he watched her unscrew the lid and take a long gulp. Her eyes fixed on his as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and he looked back down at his hands. Meg took slow steps towards him, eventually pulling up a chair so it was in front of him. She reminded him of an interrogator about to start her work and he watched her remove her leather jacket and toss it on the couch beside him.

She sat down and he realized she actually was going to question him.

"She’s asleep in Dean’s room. Tell me about what happened the three years I was a walking-coma."

"It’s hard to explain," Castiel began.

Meg sneered. “Pretend I’m Dean and dumb it down a lot.”

"If I do, will you listen?"

"First time for everything," Meg said as she leaned back and watched him. Castiel leaned forward and stared at the floor between them, not trusting himself to look her in the eye yet. He cleared his throat several times, aware of her still drinking as she waited. Then, finally, he thought of what to say.

"I didn’t think I had a choice…"

Slowly, it came out. The three years warning from Death, the fall of the Angels, their battles with Abaddon and the demons, and Sam and Dean struggling to hold it together. How he’d had fallen and become human for a time. How everything had changed and then just as quickly become the same. The angels and demons, the celestial wars to get their revenge on the Metatron, and the way Crowley had bet against Abaddon… before ultimately joining her. The way the brothers had nearly been torn apart, again, by Dean’s choices and then thrown back together.

He left out what he had done and hadn’t done in those years, left out his doubts and sadness. He focussed on trying to let her know who the enemy still was and buried his own desire to tell her everything  _he_ had experienced as a human and angel. The loneliness, the fear, the anger and hopelessness; he doubted it was the time for that.

But the entire time he spoke, Meg’s expression never changed. She was listening but there was something more guarded in her expression. As if she was understanding but frustrated by what he was telling her. He kept it short, realizing she was still too angry, the wounds still too fresh and deep. It had been only a week after all. The low hum of his voice sounded good to him, compared to her silence, but eventually he had to stop.

It was getting clear that her patience was reaching an end when he saw her begin to pick at the bottle’s label.

"So all of that… all of that made it worth burying me?" she asked.

"No. Nothing was worth that except for you being safe."

She gave a chortle of a laugh. “Think that through, Cas. I could have been hit by a car, drowned, stabbed in a bar fight.” She rolled her eyes. “All you did was get the possible blood off your hands.”

Frustrated, he watched her drink more than half the old bottle down.

"You won’t forgive me for what I did." He watched the way her throat clenched and swallowed, wondered at the way her fingers were curved claw-like. Like she was straining to hold herself in to keep from striking out.

"Nope." She leaned back in the chair. "Get to thinkin’ that you didn’t have much faith in me. Any idea why I should just jump back into your arms?"

"I did it for you and Nyx. I remembered how you felt about her."

"Then you forget one big thing, Cas." Crossing her legs, Meg’s eyes narrowed at him. "You forget how I felt about cages."

"No, I didn’t." He shrugged his shoulders to relieve the tension. "I came to find you because of what I knew Crowley could do if he uncovered the truth. I knew that after the fire I had to keep you safe. You and Nyx. But you ran before I could stop you, before I could try to explain."

"That’s my modus operandi: flee to fight another day." She took another long pull of the bourbon and wiped at her glistening mouth. Her eyes went black and then brown, as if she was experimenting with her power. But from what he could feel, it didn’t throb like it had before. Now it was weaker and he knew she was trying hard to keep herself looking strong. When her eyes dropped to his, he swallowed.

"So what do we do? If-if we can’t at least find a way to work together," he began but Meg shrugged.

"We’re going to have to have a fight soon, Castiel. One of those knock-down, drag out fights our kind is born to have."

The mere idea of fighting her made his stomach plummet. “I don’t want to fight you.”

She had a crooked half-smile with no warmth, just a sort of cool yet cruel look. “Doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” Shrugging, she looked up at the steps. “Eventually.”

"I didn’t bring you back to fight you, Meg," Castiel insisted.

"Then why did you in the first place? Think back, Castiel. Why the very first time? When you pulled me out of the Lethe?" she asked and he flinched. "For what purpose except your own damn guilt?"

"You know why. I don’t regret that."

"You may one day." Meg gave an odd sound and put her head in her hands, the bottle dropping to the floor between her feet. She made a low sound of pain and her fingers pushed at her temples. Castiel reached out to touch her and then corrected himself, putting his hands in his lap and clenching them on his thighs. Meg smoothed her hair back while taking a shaky breath, but even bent over she managed to look fierce. "How do I know you’re not just going to up and leave again?”

“I swear…”

“Don’t. I can’t do this, not again, not after everything.” She dropped her hands and he forced himself to hold her stare as she stood. “I need to be something more now. I have to protect Nyx and myself and try to figure out what the hell is going on. Even I can tell something is going to happen and I doubt it’s a good thing.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the fire clearly. “Whoever tried to kill me… they knew what I was.”

Castiel watched her move in a distracted way towards the hall and he followed her closely.

She was muttering aloud, clenching her fingers almost nervously. “I need to be strong, I need to get back to being what I was, and I can’t do that with you here because - because -”

"I make you weak?" he asked gently and Meg tensed up.

"This isn’t about me anymore, it’s about Nyx."

He knew he had to reach her. “Nahara, I - “

The word dropped the air to a chilly point, and he felt the gaping silence acutely. She’d frozen mid-step and he could read the tension in her body as if the name had stabbed at her. He hadn’t spoken her true name in so long that the fluent accent he uttered it with sounded so foreign that he had to whisper it again to truly believe she heard him. Her head twitched to the side and she flinched again, her hands at her sides digging into her sleeves.

Castiel stared at the back of her head. “I…”

"You son of a bitch, you think that helps!” Turning around in a whirl, she stalked towards him and he retreated into the opposing wall, blocked in by the tiny demon until his spine slammed into the metal support. The pressure ached but he managed to not let it show. “Don’t you dare use my name!”

"You said I should only use it when I meant it. I mean it now for you to trust me. You trusted me then.” He caught her swinging arm and whipped her around into the wall, hands struggling holding her still. He let her continue to fight and spoke over her cursing. “Trust me now. I am doing this to protect you.”

"Guilt looks so good on you.”

"I’ve wait for you all these years, Meg… Nahara.” He held her steady as she gave a strange sound and tried to get him to let go. "You’re the reason I waited. You and Nyx.”

"All those pretty words, Castiel. Things aren’t the same, not now or ever."

"I know." He let her go so abruptly that she sagged back into the wall. "Heaven, how I know."

Meg looked away, eyes on the bottle lying on the floor and glinting with a hunger to forget. He watched her, wanting for her to look up and see what he wanted her to see. How much he wanted to see that demon he’d come to know. Vicious as she was now, he wondered if she was hiding herself from him. A way of protecting herself.

She’d done that before, years ago. But he’d spent hours, days, months, replaying every moment he had had with her in his head and he thought he knew her. Resting his own head back against the wall, he watched Meg’s face pull into a disgruntled frown.

"So you’re saying I should ignore everything you did?"

"No. But we have to worry about Nyx. You want to protect her, don’t you?" He felt terrible using that on her but instinct told him that Meg would agree.

Judging by the way she glared at him, the demon knew what he was up to. “We need to talk to Nyx. She’s a child; stuff like this is only going to terrify her if we don’t tell her and some demon attacks again.”

"The less she knows the better."

Meg rolled her eyes. “Please, she can see what I am, Cas. I bet you she can see something is wrong with you as well.” Something cunning, that made her eyes narrow and her lips spread in a smirk, made him uncomfortable. “She’s already going to be wondering why you are hanging around me so much.”

It was clear when he spoke that he surprised her. “I think that it is for the best, if you have to tell her who I am.”

"Oh no, Cas." Dark brown eyes fixed on his face. "That’s all for you to do. Welcome to parenthood. I’m already sick of you hiding from it."

With a disgusted look, she shoved him back and left him alone in the common room before he could correct her. Castiel swallowed and realized just what she meant and what he had to do.

It was more terrifying than he had thought possible.

~~

Crowley smacked the demon closest to him so hard that he shrieked and fell to his knees.

"I told you to ward the damn building!"

"We did! Against… against…"

Grabbing the man by the back of his neck, Crowley physically forced him to look at the building. “Do those look like Enochian wards to you? Hmm?”

"But I’m only versed in demonic wards," the demon cried pathetically.

"Bah!" Crowley shoved him face first down into the concrete. "I tell you, hired help these days is getting worse and worse." He snapped his fingers at another demon. "You. What’s going on in Hell since I left?"

"More monsters being pushed back to Purgatory. No one knows why but they seem to be retreating. They were doing damage," she said, respectfully keeping her eyes on the ground between them.

"Well, I don’t like it. What does old Red have to say about it?"

"She… she hasn’t called up the others yet."

"That is for the best." He held up his hand. "Speaking of which… how would Meg know anything about it?"

"Well, she is one of the oldest remaining, sir," the demon explained.

"I mean how the monsters were heading into Hell? Abaddon kept that well hidden."

"Well, they are in her domain, sir. Meg is smart and it is possible she could just guess." Her eyes still on the ground, when he slapped her it made her head turn but she didn’t fall. One of Abaddon’s loyalist spies, he knew, but she was useful.

"I want you to get the word out. I want that bitch and her whelp found. I’ll even reward the demon who does it… or the human. Let it whisper to the Hunters that there is an abomination alive and kicking. I want to see them drool over the prospect of getting their heads on the mantel."

"The Winchesters may still guard them."

"Then we’ll just have to distract them, won’t we?" Crowley’s head tilted back and he stared at the ceiling. "And the best way is to follow them on a hunt."

His eyes glinted red as he looked at the demon. “Have a detail sent to that hotspot up north where those werewolves were hanging around and let me know immediately if they show up.”

"What about the angel?" she asked, hesitating over leaving. She, like all of them, had seen how easily he’d taken care of Dina.

"Oh, I’m sure precious angel will be distracted enough. Go." 

~~

When Dean and Sam came back into the bunker in the afternoon, the quiet was disturbing except for the low hum of the television. Knowing Castiel as he did, and his love for television, Dean took his bag and headed for his room.

Finding a tiny girl sound asleep in the middle of his bed nearly made him drop his bag. Until he remembered who she was and then he caught the bag up before it hit the ground. Dean shot her peaceful face a puzzled look and set his bag on the shelf as quietly as he could. Instead of waking her up and taking her to the other spare room, he turned the light back off and headed for the common room where he knew Castiel would be.

Sam was headed down the hall, head down as he finished buttoning up a clean shirt, when a hand suddenly went around his throat and shoved him into the wall. He choked and stared down. Small as she was, Meg had him pinned like a fly to a board and her black eyes were threatening. 

"How long did you both know?" she demanded without waiting for him to speak. "Did you know what he was going to do?"

Sam caught on to what she wanted fast. “He asked us to make you safe.”

"So why the visits? Why even let me…"

"Because you helped us, that’s why." He choked a little as she tightened her hand on his throat. "You were a friend."

She snarled a little. “Don’t think I’m your friend, Sam. We use each other.”

"Like it or not," he choked again at the grip she had on him, "Cas wanted to keep you safe."

"By destroying what I was."

"He hid you. He took a pounding for it too. Did he tell you about the past three years?"

Meg rolled her eyes and dropped him to his feet. “Cliff’s notes version. Short, sweet… meaningless.”

Sam said nothing about that. He wasn’t about to say anything that might get him killed. Unlike Castiel, he could tell that Meg was struggling to figure it out for herself. “How’s Nyx?”

"Sleeping in Dean’s room. She’s tired out."

"Well, being on the run will do that."

The demon crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head up at him. “What would you have done?”

"Same thing if I had a kid. Anything I could to protect them if I couldn’t trust the people I was with." Sam stared down at her. "Good to see you again, Meg."

"Sure it is."

She followed him down to the common room and eyed Dean as she walked down the few steps. He was nursing a drink, leaning back in his chair at the long table.

"So, sleeping demon woke up."

"Shut up," she snapped, suddenly too tired to deal with either of them. Her mind was already trying to remember everything over the past three years. If the Winchesters had hated her for so long, why help hide her? Why hadn’t they just shivved her and let the kid be raised by one of their hunter buddies?

Something she intended on finding out. When she had a moment to think clearly.

"Least Cas found you."

"He sniffed around, yeah." Meg ignored the angel as she sat down across from the Winchesters. He looked ready to take a seat beside her but at a warning look he backed away and sat at the end of the table.

Dean noticed and grinned. “You’re really in the dog house, huh?”

Castiel glared him, not liking the reference. Meg rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers impatiently.

"Well, I’m here. Cas said I should find out from you idiots if something is going down. So I figure, why not? You guys probably know something."

"Nice to see you back up to the grade," Dean sniped back and she grinned.

"Like it’s hard to out-think you two."

"Anyway!" Sam said loudly to distract them. Dean shook his head and set his drink down.

"We did some digging in Heber Springs. Linda’s body was never found in the wreckage. But after what Kevin told me, what we saw, I-," Dean fidgeted. "I think it was Azazel."

"Azazel? Long time dead Azazel? Yellow-Eyes?" Meg frowned, memories flickering through her and she gave an almost wistful smile. "Well, shit. Makes a bit of sense."

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest and watched her reaction.

"Except it’s impossible. He’d be locked in the Lethe if he even had an afterlife."

"Right, because, like I told Sam, impossible things never happen. As proven by you getting knocked up, right?" Dean asked in a biting tone. Meg glared at him. "Look, it’s all muddled, I get it but what if he is alive? Linda died the same way as anyone else he took his plans out on."

"So that means Azazel is back? Why?"

"Why did he stab you?" Castiel interjected suddenly and Meg looked at the table, still confused herself. She remembered her attacker’s low murmurs and vicious grin in a foggy way but Castiel’s prompting made her reach down to touch where the wound should have been. Meg slowly turned her eyes to him. How he had known that…

"Not saying it is him one hundred percent but let’s operate on the side of safety and say that something like him is set loose. Either way, we got a Big Bad hiding out and he’s up to something. And Purgatory is on the move too."

"We think," Sam said. "Just lots of rumour and hearsay."

"You guys turned into gossipers in your old age, huh?" Meg’s dark eyes almost sparked with anger. "Stuff went to Hell without me."

Dean rolled his eyes and then caught a glimpse of something at the corner of his vision. He cleared his throat and gave a pointed look to the stairs. Meg swivelled in her chair to see that Nyx standing on the second landing, dragging a heavy blanket and her stuffed toy behind her. Her blue eyes were fixed on her mother’s face and she looked half-awake but clearly was scared.

"Nyxie? Bad dream?" Meg’s voice softened, causing all three men to look at her in surprise. Rubbing at her eyes, Nyx nodded and came down to stand beside Meg’s chair.

The little girl stared at them all and then at her mother. “Scared. I want to go home.”

"We don’t have a home, Nyx. Not anymore. Dean and Sam… remember Henry and Matt? That’s them. We’re in their home." She pointed at the two men and Nyx looked at them.

"Smells bad. Old," she declared grumpily and Meg grinned at Dean’s offended grumbling.

"That’s because they are old, kid."

Nyx huffed and looked then at Castiel. Her eyes widened as if she was really seeing him for the first time and then she looked at Dean and Sam. “He’s not like them. Looks funny.”

"Oh?"

"He’s a monster?"

"You have to ask him that." Meg turned and faced Castiel. There was a viciousness in her grin that made him swallow nervously. "Maybe you two should have a chat while the boys explain to me what happened in my town. Have fun."

Castiel felt like he was going to his own execution as he followed Nyx to the steps that led down from the walkway, watching her slowly fix her blanket around her small body. She looked tired as she sat on one of the iron steps, her small face rumpled and her hair knotted in thick waves around her face. She scrubbed at her eyes and then hugged her unicorn tighter to her body. The torn thing had seen better days but she held it close.

He knew she wasn’t even sure why he had to talk to her when she was nearly asleep, when she clearly wanted her mother. Crouching down in front of her, he licked his lips and leaned forward. Her eyes opened wide as he came closer and he had the feeling she really was seeing what he was. Her hands tightened on the toy’s body but she didn’t look away.

Castiel didn’t realize that they shared the same intense look when they stared at one another. “Nyx, I…”

"You’re glowy."

"I am." He stared at the top of her head as she looked down at his shoes. "Nyx, what is your mother?"

"Dee—-de—-demon." Her voice tripped over the word but when she looked up he could see that she understood what it meant.

"That doesn’t scare you?"

She shrugged. “She’s pretty.”

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "She is that."

Nyx’s eyes flicked to his face. “You think she’s pretty?”

He grinned. “Always.”

She fidgeted, pressing her cheek into one hand as she stared at him. “You a monster?

"I’m an angel," he blurted out. "I’m…"

Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Angels fly. You fly?”

"Not much." He reached out to touch her arm. "Nyx, do you remember who I am?"

"Cas-tee-elle," she drawled his name out as if to tease him. He smiled and her eyes fixed on him. This time she spoke more abruptly, "Castiel."

"That’s right. Who am I though? Do you remember me?"

Her small face scrunched up as she tried to figure out what he meant. “No.”

"Can I show you?" he asked, not sure that this was for the best. Nyx hesitated, then nodded. He held his hand palm up and she lay her tinier one in it. Murmuring low in Enochian, he began to focus his power on her.

“ _Cicle Ananael_.” His eyes gleamed a little as his Grace swam to the surface. “Nyx.”

Something flashed in her eyes the way it did in his and for the first time he felt that tiny well of power flicker through her. Like a small electrical shock and suddenly he saw himself through her eyes.

_Blurred vision as she opened her eyes and saw his face close to her own. One of the first she’d seen. Newborn cries in the air as he cuddled her close to keep her warm and whispered that he would protect her._

_"Hello, Nyx."_

_Seeing his smile as he tickled her stomach, spreading his shadowy wings out to make her smile in delight._

_"You’re so happy."_

_Saw his face turn to one of impossible sadness as his fingers touched her face._

_"I’m sorry, Nyx.”_

Castiel eased the transfer quickly, sensing her fear and distress when the memories grew to be too much. Her eyes widened and she pulled her hand free from his. Her lower lip quivered and he gently reached out again.

"Nyx. I’m…" He cleared his throat. "You’re my daughter. I- I’m your father."

The word sounded impossibly loud between them but he watched her face hopefully. Even for a child, it was obvious that she understood him.

Which was what made the way she looked away from him and down at her toy again so hurtful. Nyx seemed to pull away more than just physically from him; an invisible distance seemed to grow in that moment. Castiel watched the top of her head, desperate for her to look up again. His hand itched where she had touched it and he reached out again.

"Nyx?"

"Don’t wanna talk," she mumbled, folding up into herself into a little ball on the step and refusing to look up as she wrapped the blanket around herself.

The longer he waited, the clearer it became that she wasn’t going to look up. Forcing down the hurt and pain the gesture gave him Castiel sighed and stood up, retreating to where the Winchesters sat. He left her on the step and tried to forget the way her memories had shaken him as well.

Meg was staring at him, glancing possessively at Nyx as well.

"So what do we do?" Dean was asking, aware of Castiel’s barely guarded gloominess.

"What do you do, you mean," Meg pointed out, looking away. "I’m not involved."

"You’re staying here then," Castiel snapped and she stared at him until he met her gaze. "You’re still regaining your strength. We can go investigate and you can stay here. You’ll be safe from Crowley here."

Sam looked at Dean and his brother gave him a meaningful look. “I can stay, I guess.”

Both angel and demon glanced at him. “I don’t need a babysitter,” Meg began and Sam grinned.

"I’m not leaving you alone in our bunker if Crowley is sniffing around, like Cas said. You need a place to stay and how many friends do you have left?" Sam countered and her eyebrows arched as if impressed.

"Since when did you grow a pair?"

He ignored her and looked at Dean. “Cas can get you up to Maine and back faster than the Impala anyway.”

His brother shrugged. “All right, zap travel with Cas commences. I’m gonna get some weapons just in case.”

Meg watched the Winchesters bicker as they walked towards the locked cabinet in the corner of the room, before glancing over at Nyx. The little girl was now playing with her stuffed toy and staring at her feet. For a moment her vibrancy was gone and looked like she was so deep in thought. Something that was unnatural for a child her age.

Standing up, Meg walked around the table and crouched down in front of her. “Nyx?”

Blue eyes lifted and she could tell that she had been crying by the tear-stains on her face. Meg reached out and stood her up, dusting her off.

"Go watch TV in the other room, I’ll be there in a moment."

Collecting her toy and her blanket, Nyx was gone though she hadn’t stopped sniffling. Meg shut her eyes and turned around, promptly smacking into Castiel. He stood so close to her that she had to put more space between them or risk touching him again. He was watching after Nyx as well and didn’t seem to notice her.

"She didn’t seem to take it well," he observed.

"You expected her to? She’s three, Castiel." She rubbed at her stomach. "Kid’s had it hard for the past week. Good that it’s out in the open but don’t be hoping for the perfect family life anytime soon."

His eyes dropped to her face. “Stay here, please.”

Meg sneered at him. “Why?”

"Because I want you safe. And you know you can’t keep running forever."

"Baby, I spent years running before we got tangled up. You still don’t know what I’m capable of," she said and he looked into her eyes.

"No, I don’t." He crouched to look her in the eye, and she jutted out her chin at him. "But you’ve never had to run from Hell itself with a child at your side, have you? Don’t risk her just to prove me wrong."

Meg glared at him but was kept from answering by the Winchesters coming back, Dean carrying a few hunting knives and his gun. Both brothers slapped each other on the back as Castiel backed away from Meg, slowly and giving her a warning look the whole time.

"Be back in a few hours, don’t drink all the booze," Dean warned Sam. "And try not to have your hair and face made-over by the kid."

"Cute," Sam muttered as he moved beside Meg. Castiel put his hand on Dean’s shoulder but as they fluttered out his eyes caught Meg’s. She could see the warning there and had the feeling that if she ran, he would know it.

But then they were gone and she was left staring at empty air.

"So, Moose." She turned on her heel slowly to look up at him. "Where do you keep the good booze?"

He blinked and looked down at her. “What?”

"Well, if I have to spend hours in your company waiting for Dean and the ex to get back, then I at least want to hear your war stories. And I get the feeling me getting a little drunk might make it easier when you hit the oh-so emotional parts."

He stared after her incredulously as she walked away from him to the common room. Shaking his head, he rubbed at his chest and followed her.

"Good to have you back, Meg."

~~

The backdoor to Hell was pulsing, throbbing from the force of something that demanded entrance. The demons standing on the other side watched and waited, not sure what to think of the change.

Standing at their head, Abaddon tossed her red hair over one shoulder and narrowed her eyes. They had pushed back, slowly, at the monsters’ invasion and were winning. She thought they were winning anyway. She hadn’t heard from Crowley in days now.

Which made her think that the little worm was up to something again.

“Close it,” she snapped at the demons heaving at the iron doors. Heavily magicked, they were burning the demons’ skin as ten of them lifted it up and pushed it over the hole. Abaddon’s own interest in Purgatory meant nothing. Not when she had others to control.

Legions of them.

Every day she could swear that she felt something breathing down her neck, waiting for her to turn her back and expose her weakness. The door was the first step for her regaining control. But as the iron door lifted and began to weld itself to the broken barrier, it smashed inward, crumpling as if it had been struck. Abaddon cursed and slammed her fist into the wall, pushing back with her own power.

But whatever it was on the other side was stronger than her.

For all her power, the door was blown backwards and sent the demons crowding the hall scattering. The light that poured in was muted sunlight, false but disgustingly bright in Hell, and Abaddon stepped around her demons to face the threat head-on. They’d accepted her as their Queen because of her willingness to fight, not knowing that her thrill for the kill was what made her do it.

There was a crooning noise on the other side, like animals mating, and through the light a slim silhouette stepped through, bare feet sliding over the iron grating. Arms lifted out to the side, the creature who came through looked like a woman at first glance.

Until her face came into full view, one side normal while the other was little more than mangled flesh. Her white dress was torn in the middle, revealing a belly half cut open so black blood and tiny round balls dropped to the floor as she walked. It was like seeing tiny grenades falling and Abaddon backed up a step as sickeningly sweet odours began to fill the sulphurous air. It smelled like over-ripe peaches and jasmine.

The woman was young, beautiful in a torn way, and she focussed her white eyes on Abaddon.

"Sister."

"Sorry, sweetie, we’re not related," Abaddon said and the slow grin made her stare at the creature.

"I meant that as in… Queens… you are the Queen of Hell? A Mother to your kind in a way. That is what your kind told me, the ones who came into Purgatory. Abaddon, correct?"

"That’s me, who’re you?"

Her eyes rolled back in her head as if thinking. “I have so many names but the last… the last was Eve.” Eyes now brown, she smiled gently at Abaddon. “And I’m looking for a way out.”

"Crowley said you were dead."

"You don’t think something that is born in Creation can be so easily killed, do you? By human men?" Eve spun and laughed, staring at the demons. "Mm."

"Going to have to find your own doorway out, sister," Abaddon spat the word out, "I’ve got a Hell to run."

"Oh, I don’t need that many of you. Just two. Somewhat like the Ark, so to speak." She grinned and her teeth were fanged. "Any volunteers?"

"Get her back to her side," Abaddon snapped at two demons and her eyes focussed on Eve. "No offence, I don’t play well with monsters."

"That’s a shame. I’ve learned how to play with your kind if they get in my way. Live and learn." Her smile was wicked and a demon closed in on her. Turning, she laid her hand flat on his face and stared into his eyes. He stopped moving and stared up at her as if mystified by her hideous beauty. Eve bent close to him. "Kiss me. We have such places to go."

As if compelled, he let her kiss him and then the other demon on her other side allowed it as well when she turned to her. Eve moaned at the pressure of the kiss and the female demon shuddered when it ended.

Then, stunningly, Eve’s own body slumped down and disappeared into a pool of black ooze. Startled, Abaddon looked as the ooze slowly evaporated in the heat of Hell. The eggs that had been dropping also evaporated and the two demons she had kissed turned around to face their mistress. She watched their faces closely for an answer.

"Well?"

One began to speak and then choked on the words. His head tilted back and he howled, a black plume of smoke rising from his mouth. Abaddon’s head jerked left and right as the second demon did the same, and the smoke raced out of Hell, slowly changing to a brilliant orange colour. The bodies they had brought with them collapsed and exploded into fire but no demon noticed.

Not when suddenly the monsters who had been lingering on the other side of the door burst through and attacked.


	4. Change (When Angels Try)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigating the 100-Mile leads Dean and Castiel to a horrific discovery about what has come out of Purgatory. Stuck in the bunker, Meg struggles with what she should believe while Sam tries to understand his strange feelings of pain and loss.

_Sitting alone with the edge of the bar digging into his stomach was not how he had planned to spend the night at first. But after a few drinks, he’d decided that there were worse ways to spend it than drinking and trying to find some company. Being alone, miserable and wallowing in self-pity the way he always did this time of year? That would only make him feel worse. Here at least it looked like he was trying to give a damn. It looked like he was_ _**trying** _ _._

_Without even looking into the bar’s mirror, Castiel knew what he looked like: a drunk human who hadn’t shaved or bathed in a few days. He could barely lift his own head with the headache he had and thanks to his hangover his stomach was already churning and making a sour feeling crawl up to his mouth. He spied his phone, still vibrating away on the bar as text after text, call after call from Dean and from Sam came through. He had told them he’d be back in an hour._

_That had been three days ago._

_Sometimes it was better to drown his own misery for a while in a bottle or sleep it away. It wasn’t often that he didn’t have to deal with hunts, the long hours on the road, the angels, the demons, the research and the blood.  It wasn’t often that he didn’t think of how he had lost what he was in one stupid moment of misplaced trust. How he had lost what he had, all because he needed to give them up or see them dead._

_Castiel had allowed himself one week to do what he wanted. There was nothing to stop him anymore. No feeling of Grace nagging at him that he had to toe the line. He was a plain and simple human now, had been for over a year now. He was a human who would do what all humans did, he decided angrily. He would let himself find comfort like a human, drink like a human, submit to urges like a human. Eventually, he’d age, wither, remember the good old days, and ultimately die._

_Though the way he was already drunk — he was slowly getting every more into a stupor — was giving him that false hope that he could forget it all for a few hours._

“ _Tired, handsome?” the bartender asked, leaning across the bar to pour him a shot and giving him a sympathetic smile. He’d gone to a smoky old bar this time, not minding the people here that went around looking for company and would always stop to see if he was willing. People who always moved on when they realized how hollow that search was. He sympathized with them. But he’d learned to not ask questions and just listen to them. Like an absolution, feeling another’s pain was part of what he needed._

_Alcohol was cheaper in these small places, he had figured that out. He didn’t have much money anyway but the last round of cheap shots helped keep his good buzz going. Getting drunk helped, he thought to himself, and he nearly felt like forgetting._

_Castiel tilted the glass up, poured shot down his throat and tapped the bar for another. The bartender’s fine eyebrows rose high and she eyed the row of empty shot glasses in front of him._

_"Celebrating something?” she asked, grinning sidelong at him. "Haven’t seen anyone knock that many back in an hour besides bachelor parties.” She made a distasteful frown. "Or my ex when he dumped me.”_

_Castiel hesitated, he always did, before blurting out, “It’s an anniversary.”_

_"Oh? Got married and regret it?”_

_His eyes flicked down to the row of glasses. “Never even thought about that. She would have gutted me,” he slurred and then shook his head as her face swam before him. “Would've let her. She looked pretty in blood.”_

_The bartender chalked that up to more drunk talk. Her job was to get as much cash out of him as possible without killing him with alcohol. Not try to figure him out._

_"She? You weren’t married_ _?_ _” She poured him another one but this time he simply toyed with the small glass._

_"Lost them. I…” He hiccuped. "Made a choice. Lost ‘em.”_

_"Who? Wife?”_

_"My daughter and my… girlfriend.” Castiel winced because damn, he could just picture Meg’s look if he had ever said that to her face. "It’s been a while now. I thought I was getting better. Even moved in for a few weeks with another woman just so I could feel something. Anything. Didn’t work.” Castiel spun the glass between his fingers, slopping alcohol onto his fingers. He slurped it off noisily and caught the woman’s sympathetic look while his finger was in his mouth like a child. She gave him a sad smile._

_"Sorry to hear that. An accident?”_

_He squinted, trying to remember the story he told everyone. “Something like that. Thought I was fine… and I’m worse off now than I was before.” He wiped tiredly at his face. “I guess I just think about what could have been.”_

_The bartender reached across and patted his hand before she poured him another drink. “Life’s too short for if’s and maybes. Maybe you should be celebrating the good times you had, rather than the bad, huh?”_

_His eyes caught and held hers and after a tense moment she withdrew her hand. “I’m off in ten minutes if you want to talk.”_

_They always said they wanted to talk but he knew that was never going to happen._

_He never let it happen._

_Castiel just needed to forget and he didn’t want to hear more humans tell him how he should feel._

_It was just an hour later when his back was slammed against the cheap panel of the motel door and he heard her giggle as he stumbled against her. He let her mouth search his, tasting of tequila and mint gum. He could feel her fast movements, the hurried way she unzipped him and toyed with him. Trying to tease him in to responding and he lost his hesitancy as her warm body pressed into his._

_He kissed her back, ran his hands down her breasts and felt the lushness of her curves and the way her  velvety dark skin rippled when he touched her. He remembered to mutter back at her the words he knew to speak after some practice. Empty words they both moaned back and forth as they pushed against one another. Still he let a small part of himself remain distant; it felt like he was watching this happen from outside his own vessel. As she began to slip to her knees, pressing too-wet of kisses against his stomach on her way, he let his head loll back to stare at the ceiling. Drunk numb and already feeling guilt gnawing at him, he only felt some semblance to pleasure as nimble fingers unzipped his jeans. He remembered to act the part he was playing, remembered to stroke her face and moan as if he solely focussed on taking his pleasure from hers._

_Not for the first time, he wondered why he couldn’t just forget and end his own misery._

_~~_

"Hey, wake up.” Dean snapped his fingers in front of Castiel’s face and it made him jump in surprise. "You’ve been brooding instead of helping and I was saying that we need to actually find the spot. But we’re still here lurking around. You with me?”

"Of course I am. I just need a moment,” the angel answered and he stood up from the seat he’d taken on an overturned tree.  The 100-Mile, even in the fall sunlight, was a place where anyone could get easily lost. Even Castiel felt a little directionless with its enormity. Dean had insisted this was the right area but after an hour of going in circles with not a sign of anything strange, neither of them were so sure. So Dean had given up and called Sam for help but apparently his brother sounded a little drunk.

“Likely that pint-size is drinking him under the table and it’s not even three pm yet,” Dean had joked and he didn’t seem to notice Castiel scowling.

The thought of Sam and Meg drinking together, irrationally had made Castiel a little jealous and he had never before felt that towards either of them. It wasn’t because he felt threatened by the human; it was the thought that maybe Sam could get her to listen when he had failed at it. That Meg might reveal something, say something that would matter, and he wouldn’t know what it was because he was out here out of pure cowardice. 

Picturing Meg and Sam drinking had made Castiel regress to the events of the past few years. That memory of that “anniversary” had always stuck out because that had been the first time he hadn’t felt guilt over what he’d done. He had needed it. It had been what he had needed just in time to help the angels recover Heaven. At the time he hadn’t felt guilt but now he wasn’t sure what he felt.

It felt like fear. Fear that maybe he wasn’t ready to fight for this again. He hadn’t wanted to stay in the bunker and be faced with Nyx and Meg when he still didn’t know how to fix this.

Dean pocketed his phone and looked up at the sky. “Well, let’s move on. Sam said his map shows that is further up.”

Castiel stood, brushing his hands on his coat and followed the hunter through the underbrush, watching him struggle. It seemed like even the simplest of branches seemed to trip him. 

"Are you okay?” he asked finally when Dean stumbled again.

"Yeah, you know me. Just a little thrown off.” He made a gesture at his friend. "What with Castiel Airlines having turbulence.”

"I’m usually much better at that but you don’t seem like you are feeling well.” Castiel stared at the back of his head thoughtfully. "I mean, you look well but you seem unbalanced by something.”

"Hey.” Dean turned and pointed up at his face. "Stop checking me out, my eyes are up here.”

Castiel glared at him out of exasperation. 

"We’re going to talk about something else, you got me?” Dean continued. Realizing there was no point in arguing, Castiel waved his hand and let him walk a little ways ahead of him. This time he didn’t say a word when he saw him stumbling a bit more than usual. "So, let’s think this through.” He lifted a hand in air and began to tick things off on his fingers. 

Following him, Castiel made sure to be on guard as Dean rattled on.

"Rumour is that Purgatory is acting up and monsters got into Hell. Monsters are out in droves, demons are squirrelly, we think Azazel or something like him is out there, and now we got your baby momma and kid back full throttle.” Catching his breath, Dean turned a bit to see where they were and let Castiel catch up beside him.

"You think that it is all connected?”

"Don’t you?” Dean asked, and the angel looked at him with barely concealed annoyance.

"I hope for all our sakes, it isn’t.”

"Yeah, but you know that’s wishful thinking. Life doesn’t always go the way we want it.” Dean shrugged and clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Let’s go this way.”

"You don’t seem very sure about where you’re going,” Castiel said as he fell into line beside him.

"Come on, have I ever gotten us lost before?” That earned him a look that spoke volumes and he winced. “Okay, that one time.”

"We ended up in a daycare instead of a vampire nest.”

"Hey. Those kids bit me!” the hunter pointed out. Castiel rolled his eyes to the sky as if praying for help. "They did.”

"They were children, Dean.”

"Doesn’t mean we were in the wrong place.”

They glared at each other. “Maybe it would be better if we kept moving instead of arguing about this,” Castiel said.

"Fine. But we’re not lost.”

Castiel waited until his back was turned before he shook his head. “I’ll try to believe that.”

"I heard that.”

~~

"Stupid! This was so goddamn stupid! Who said I wanted to be a writer!” Chuck shouted as he threw his research book on Hindu mythology to the other side of the room. It shattered the mirror he kept there in his study but he ignored the sound it made, the loud tinkling of shards littering his hardwood floors. He didn’t care that he had just destroyed an antique; he was going to have his tantrum and like it.

"Piece of garbage!” He grabbed a globe and flung it at the wall next. "I can’t do anything right!”

He continued to toss things around the room to try to make himself feel better, all the while trying not to notice the legal letter from his agent and editors. Anya, who hadn’t shown her face in three years, had written to say his contract would be up if he couldn’t produce a new spin-off series for Supernatural. He would be cooked in terms of a career. The sort of reputation he had in the writing world wouldn’t get him a new contract either. He’d become a recluse and unless he was writing dramatic epics about either lawyers or young love in pseudo horror, then his career was as good as dead. Pulp cult novels weren’t respectable enough anymore to let him write what he loved on his own time. 

He hadn’t written more than four sentences since ending the last Supernatural series.

"I hate this!” A paperweight crashed through his window next. "Why can’t I write?”

He had played the story out in his head, the way he had every story. He knew it from start to end. He had had vision after vision. Epic battles in Heaven and Hell, the Winchesters smack in the middle, their ever-faithful angel pulled down to human level and then given his Grace back when things had seemed bleakest. 

But with the Lethe’s gates closed and no true touch leftover from original creation, he was stuck. Chuck had forgotten, the moment he had submitted his book, what he was. A creator.

He lost his momentum for writing slowly after the months, then years, when the Lethe was closed and he had nothing else to draw from He’d tried to be the happily drunk and eccentric writer he had been before. It was why he couldn’t get over his own block. Every day he would get up and write the same four lines, over and over again.

_There was a coming threat that the Winchesters had thought to never see again. Something so terrible that no one else counted on. But they did. They were ready for anything._

Except that worked in a happy world and he knew that the Winchesters would never get that. In his head, with what he knew, they wouldn’t be scared of whatever villain that came at them normally. They’d already faced too many things to be scared of a simple monster or demon. There was nothing to tell a story about and he couldn’t make himself write.

Childishly, he slumped to his desk and ran his fingers down his face, pulling at his own skin so the bags under his eyes were drawn out and his cheeks went gaunt. The hangover he had from the night before was pounding through his head again. He made a grotesque groaning sound and glared at the opposing book shelf.

_"I bet you wish you saved all those notes. You forgot that without me there’s no story left. You have nothing,”_ a devious female voice murmured. An echo of the past but it reminded him of that day when he’d burned everything of Supernatural. All of his old notebooks, the first copies, posters, fan letters, and disks, all of them destroyed. Everything except for his laptop.

He even hated that thing and so it was gathering dust on his desk again.

More than anything, Chuck hated being a writer.

“I’m all tapped out,” he grumbled as he rested his chin on his arms and stared ahead of himself. Maybe he needed a few more drinks or even a longer vacation. But, he thought wryly, wasn’t three years long enough? Groaning, he tapped his fingers on his desk in irregular rhythm as he looked over the books leftover.

Still, the longer he stared at the book shelf the more a single thin binder wedged between two thick volumes caught his eye. He squinted at it and clicked his tongue thoughtfully a few times before finally getting up to see what it was. When his fingers brushed the torn plastic spine, he knew instantly what it was. The binder, tucked safely away between the family Bible and  _Divina Commedia_ , was one of his old Supernatural titles he hadn’t published after Swan Song. It was the only copy he had printed out himself and kept. His editor had said it was too dark and that she thought it could use a thorough rewrite. The cover art itself, something he’d drawn, was gory and bizarre even for something out of his own imagination. 

Flipping through the still crisp pages, Chuck skimmed it through. All the notes, the plot points he had marked in the margins, were still in bright red ink but he didn’t remember making them at the time. Swaying a little as he started to absorb the story, he flipped to the middle of the manuscript and began to read through to see if it could spark something to make a story he could write again. A few sentences here and there caught his attention and as he headed back to his desk, he began to flip through to the part he had highlighted in yellow. His favourite part, he remembered excitedly.

It was just missing some new characters, that was all.

Reading on, his smile widened and he scrounged in his pockets until he found a pen to start making notes on the pages. Chuck shuffled back towards his desk, ignoring the paper strewn mess on the floor and the broken glass that dug into his socked feet.

With a writer’s cruelty, he knew exactly what he was going to do to make this story work. 

~~~

The silence was killing him. Dean listened to Castiel walking so quietly behind him, not responding to much that he said. They’d been walking for an hour now and the angel hadn’t said more than two words. It was starting to bore him and the last thing he needed to be in a forest was distracted by how bored he was getting.

"Maybe we should talk about Meg and Nyx. What do you think? Going to keep pushing at them, pulling the usual angel thing, or are you going to wait it out?” Dean said conversationally over his shoulder to Castiel.

"Why should I want to talk about it?”

"Because you’re my friend and I can hear you thinking even when I’m walking in front of you.” Dean turned and began to walk backwards, grinning despite Castiel’s annoyed look. "What’s wrong with talking about it?”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t want to discuss this, Dean.”

"We’ve been through too much not to talk about it.” He poked his finger at him. "You got them back. You know how rare that is, especially in our world? Don’t let Meg put you off and don’t hide it. Not everyone gets a second chance. Maybe this is yours but you might screw it up.”

"Since when are you so enthusiastic about Meg and I?” Castiel asked as he passed him. Dean shrugged. "From what I remember, you never liked the thought of our involvement.”

"Guess I’m getting older and realizing time is short,” he said candidly. "Or maybe I feel bad for that little girl. Sam and I had to deal with losing our parents, we were pretty young for our mom and even our dad was distant with us. It won’t be any easier for her, despite being an adorable hell-spawn with an angel for a father.”

Under his light tone, Castiel knew that Dean was scolding him.

"But having both of you might help her. You said Death told you that Meg was the right choice for protecting her as a baby. What about now?”

"We never went over those details.” Castiel followed him down the closest path. "I’ll deal with it my way.”

"Oh yeah, sure.” Dean rolled his eyes and ducked under a branch. "Because that always ends well with you.”

The angel glared at him and the hunter smirked back.

"Keep glaring, Cas, you know I’m right.”

"What do you propose?” Castiel snapped and he pushed by him. Every stride was angry and Dean had to jog to keep up. "That I get on my hands and knees and beg, as if I was still human, for a forgiveness I’m not certain I need? If I did need it would I deserve it? Or maybe I should make promises we both know I can never keep?” He squared his shoulders and it was easy for Dean to picture him spreading his wings in angry display. "Do I still seem like some weak human to you?”

"Nice insult, thanks. But I think Meg seeing you on your knees would likely get her abusing that power over you. I’m just saying don’t give up on at least being in Nyx’s life to protect her.” Dean reached out and put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Kid’s gonna need you in the long run.”

There was no arguing with that logic. Castiel exhaled slowly and turned his back on Dean again. He needed time to think but Dean’s habit of pushing at him was just making this worse.  With one last annoyed look at the sky as if cursing God for putting him into this, he inhaled again. A sharp, tangy odour very like blood and nothing like the smell of a forest, caught his attention and his head snapped around to try to follow it.

"You got something?” Dean asked, nudging him.

"How close are we to the exit from Purgatory?” 

"Just a bit further if we were right this time.” Dean looked up at the trees and that unsettled feeling that had been bothering him seemed to grow. "That’s funny. Nothing from the birds. There’s not even a breeze.”

"I don’t like this." Castiel glanced behind them as well and then at Dean expectantly. 

"Yeah, what’s to like, you know?” He put one hand on the knife still tucked in his belt. "Come on. It’s probably nothing. The sooner we check it out, the sooner we can get back to keep Meg and Sam from killing each other."

~~

"You-you are trying to get me drunk to get information out of me,” Sam said, slapping his palm on the table as if discovering. With one eye on where Nyx was napping on the old couch near the television, Meg shrugged and leaned back in her seat at the table. She took another sip of the finer Scotch Sam had cracked out and tried to ignore the way he pointed at her. She had stolen his own journal out from under his nose and had been trying to read it for the past hour; would have been done too if he kept quiet. Sam was not making it easy on her by talking so much and she knew eventually she would have to answer him.

"Better than taking advantage of you, I guess. Your brother would get jealous of that,” she said, barely able to keep her boredom from showing.

Sam grinned. “Or Cas would.”

She waved her hand over her face without looking up. “Notice the demon not caring.”

"Yeah sure you don’t.” Sam took a long pull from his beer. "Man, I’m getting drunk.”

"Bad influence, that’s me.” Meg smirked and leaned back. He said he was drunk but she was starting to wonder if it was just an act. "You’re not telling me much.”

"What’s to tell? Our lives went to hell and back about three times since Cas put you under that spell. We survived, we moved on.” He scratched at his chest over his heart thoughtfully. "He told you about it.”

"Cliff’s notes like I told you. I heard what I wanted to hear.”

"Ah.” He tipped his bottle neck towards her. "But not what you needed to hear.”

"This where you’re gonna get Dr. Phil on me, Sam?”

"Get with the times, will you? He’s old news now.”

"Sorry, forgot how much downtime you hunters get between failing missions. I never got to see that much TV at Linda’s.”

"We’re gonna have to have a funeral for her. She deserved a funeral,” he said morosely and clinked her glass with his bottle. Meg shook her head. Still, drunk Sam was entertaining if not a little depressing.

He chugged down the rest of his beer and then wiped at his mouth. “So, you ever going to tell Cas about that month right after?”

"Moose, I barely remember that month.”

"Sure you don’t." He slumped back in his seat. "I do. We kept having to go back and that wasn’t easy for us.”

"He doesn’t need to know about any of that.”

"Oh yeah. You’re all ‘not into the angel, he’s a prick’ as you keep telling me, and yet you want to protect him from that.”

"As in: it’s not his business. I’m not his business,” Meg snapped irritably. But Sam turned oddly puppyish eyes on her.

"You had his kid. Even though you’re not even human, that’s something you can never let go.”

“Oh for the love of Hell,” Meg muttered and then frowned. "Since when did you decide to try counselling?”

"I’m taking LDE in psych again,” he deadpanned as he picked up a new bottle of beer and cracked it open.

"Nice. Try it on Dean, will you? Serial killer studies could never compare.” Meg looked around at the bunker interior. "Why are you still hanging around this dump? The way you guys fight, I thought this place would have already been burnt to the ground.”

"We had that. We’re over it. Rinse and repeat.”

Meg arched her brow. “A shampoo joke? Boy, you are tanked. What happened? You couldn’t find a girl to pull you away again?”

"Like you’ve never been in love,” Sam slurred. Meg shrugged again, not committing to anything. "Me? I’ve been in love. Lots of times.” He took another drink and tried again. "Sometimes…” He stopped and hide a burp behind his hand, drunkenly smirking at her when she looked at him. "A few times at night if I find the room to rent.”

"Soul sharing with Dean got you some of his better habits?” The demon grinned and shook her head but didn’t stop flipping through Sam’s journal. He was looped on just a few beers and since it would take more alcohol than they had to get her drunk it looked like she was in for Winchester bonding whether she liked it or not. She glanced at Nyx but the sudden sigh from Sam made her look back to see him staring at the table.

"Loved Jess.” That morose note in his voice made her roll her eyes before she snorted. 

"Please. Did you ever think that because she died you built up this illusion in that tiny moose brain of yours that life would have been perfect? If only she had just lived?" She rocked forward teasingly. "You boys are cursed to die bachelors. Always have been since you and Dean decided to look for your old Pops.”

He swung at her and Meg easily dodged it so he had to slouch back when he lost his balance. She pushed her chair out to stand but before she could move far something about the way he was staring at her made her sit back down. Sam’s drunken gaze had fixed on her with sudden intensity. 

"You’re telling me, in all those months, you didn’t love him. Don’t believe you.”

Surprised, Meg stared back and he grinned when she didn’t even try to answer.

"Knew it.” He leaned forward and took a card from her. "You see, you may have been in my body, Meg, but I remember your sad little thoughts in my head too. I felt them. You’re just like me. You act like the bad demon and sure, you are. Deep down though, maybe you were lonely, you were tired and you needed something to fix on so you don’t go off the deep end. Deep down, you still like the idea of him. You were just scared, weren’t you?”

She glared at him but he seemed to either not see or not care how angry his words made her. It was hard to tell with the way entertainingly drunk Sam had turned into depressingly drunk Sam.

"Me too,” Sam admitted solemnly. "Scared me and Dean are gonna end up like Bobby or Dad. I’ve got Dean in my head sometimes and I know he wishes he could have a family, like I wish I’d gotten some sort of normal life.”

"This your confessional, Sam?” Meg asked. "I’ve been inside some sinful priests before so I’ve heard better."

"It’s pretty messed up,” he glared at her, "that a demon and an angel have a better chance of a family life than two humans. What are you up to, Meg?”

"Jealousy just looks so pretty on you.” She stretched and yawned. "Do a quick check on that one, Sam. We’re not about to get all normal nuclear on you.”

"Normal for you two just sounds ridiculous anyway.” He hiccuped as if to punctuate the point.

Meg kept glaring at him until she realized that she was hearing the whisper soft murmuring of a child. Sam slowly turned to look at where Nyx was sleeping and almost immediately his face cleared. His eyes lost the glaze and his mouth was no longer slack. There was no sign of a drunk and every sign of a hunter who had been trying to manipulate his prey.

She decided to kill him later for trying to play her. Right now she had to worry about Nyx. With a parting smack on his arm, she slipped into the comfier part of the common room and turned off the television.

"Nyx? What’s up, kid?” she asked as she crouched beside her daughter and shook her gently. Blue eyes popped open to focus on her and Meg was stunned when she felt a small shove in her own mind. The way another demon or angel would to try to show telepathy. She ignored it and patted her dark head, fingers combing through the tangled waves. "Bad dream?”

Nyx nodded and her tiny hands began to pull at her unicorn’s torn body. “Bad monsters.”

"No monsters are going to get you while we’re here,” Sam said comfortingly. He sounded completely sober and Meg reminded herself to not trust a Winchester at all, especially when it came to letting her guard down.

Her eyes wide, Meg’s daughter looked around the massive walls. “Not in here.”

"I think you need to get some food in you and then a real bed for a while,” Meg said, disturbed by the very real fear she could feel in Nyx. Ignoring it, she looked over her shoulder. "You guys do have actual food right? I don’t need to eat but she will."

"I’ll have to go out and shop. All we’ve got is some bread and peanut butter,” Sam said. He stood up, swayed on his feet and blinked rapidly. "Maybe I shouldn’t drive.”

Meg looked back around to see Nyx staring at Sam before her daughter turned to face her. When their eyes met, Nyx seemed to be staring at her real face, not just the human’s she wore. She had the same look that Castiel would get when he was seeing under the surface of skin and bone. Resisting the urge to touch her own face self-consciously, she watched Nyx give her a trembling smile at last. The little girl soon threw her arms around her neck and pressed close, burying her face in Meg’s shoulder and shuddering.

"Want the monsters to go away,” she insisted and Meg swung her up, giving Sam a puzzled look that he met with equal concern.

"I need to go stock up on food anyway so I’ll get something for her.”

Meg nodded. “Fine. I’m going to put her down in the spare room after she has something to eat.”

The way that Meg was acting around Nyx made Sam realize then how much she cared for her child. It was the same protectiveness she had had for Castiel in the hospital years ago. Maybe it was, like Dean had thought, a demon thing to be possessive and protective over their charges. He watched her leave the room before he checked his phone again, debating on texting Dean. 

Instead, a series of texts sent from Kevin’s spare phone stared back at him.

_I’m coming back to Kansas. I need to see you guys. It’s about what happened._

He forgot all about contacting Dean for a moment. They had told Kevin he should rest, grieve, anything but try to be a prophet or a hunter. 

Like he’d said to Meg, they even planned to stage a small memorial for Linda Tran. Both Winchesters had been fond of Mrs. Tran — Dean’s schoolboy crush not withstanding — and for the first time they wanted to do something to  show their respect. They’d never had time before.

It was because of her that Sam was even alive now.

~~

The clearing that Dean had come through that dark night years ago was now overgrown but even with all the brush and deadwood, he knew this place. You didn’t often forget the first glimpses of freedom you saw when you escaped a prison. The massive stand of trees still protected it and the smell of something arid and rotting was intense, different from the more grassy scents further away. Dean rested his gun against his leg and quickly scanned the clearing for any danger before he crouched to check the footprints in the dirt.

"Anything?” he asked and looked to the other side where Castiel had gone to check the route leading down the other way. Something had distracted him, made him look around and think that they were being followed. He didn’t have an answer for Dean as to what it was yet.

"Nothing.” He sighed and turned, opening his own phone as if hoping for something. "Not even a…”

Dean’s startled shout made his head whip up to see him flying up and into the trees. He was flung high and spun around until Dean was pinned to a large tree trunk, his head shoved back. Groaning in pain, he struggled to move even his head.

"Dean!” Castiel started for him but before he could get far, Crowley stood in his way.

"Ah ah ah.” He grinned. "Put the big hero routine in neutral, will you?

"Crowley." His hand went for his angel sword but the demon had his own pointing up between them defensively.

"I know, I know. You warned me. Which is why I didn’t come alone.” He snapped his fingers and Dean dropped to the ground. He landed on his chest and his breath whooshed out of him the second he made impact. Castiel stared at him in concern but eventually Dean picked himself up, staggering a little as he rubbed at his chest. They were surrounded by a circle of demons who held ranks even when Castiel glared at them in warning. Crowley watched him closely but didn’t back away. "So did that warning applies to your hunters as well?”

"What do you want?”

"Just information. It’s why we followed you here.”

"Why?” Castiel narrowed his eyes and glanced up at the sky. No signs of more demons, no angels, nothing. Why was Crowley flying so far under the radar? 

"Because of your little brat and her mother,” Crowley said. "What else?" 

"Kid’s got a name,” Dean muttered and Crowley looked thoughtfully interested.

"Really? What is it?”

The hunter glanced at Castiel to see his eyes boring into him and he clamped his mouth shut when he recognized that warning. “Not like I’d tell you.”

"Smart boy but only when away from Sammy. Must be the soul thing that makes you both loopy as kittens on catnip.” Crowley glanced around the clearing. "So I assume you’ve been following the monster movements?”

"Caught our attention,” Dean admitted.

"Mm. It’s been hell in... well… Hell. No word yet as to what happened but we all felt something even when topside.” The Crossroads demon tapped his fingers in rhythm on a tree trunk. "Maybe it has to do with your gal, Castiel. You know which one I’m talking about. The previously dead one?”

The angel glanced at the spot behind him.

"The whore?” Crowley prompted. He wanted some sort of reaction from Castiel to see what he was working with.

Watching Castiel as closely as he was, Dean saw his hands tighten into fists at his sides and wondered if that explosion he was overdue for was coming. Still,  Castiel’s self-control won out and he stayed calm. Clearly wanting to insult the demon, he turned his back on him and wandered around.

"What are you doing here, Crowley?” Dean asked, palming his knife. The demons closer to him glared and he sneered back. "You guys want something or are you just looking to ogle my ass?”

"I have a very invested interest in finding out why Castiel hid Meg and her offspring. Not to mention why you trusted baby brother with them.” Crowley crossed his arms over his chest. "I actually expected Sam here with you. Not Heaven’s guard dog."

"Why do you care?”

"I like Sam.” Crowley’s grin was sly. "Boy has potential.”

"Sure you do. And I’m pretty sure Cas isn’t that interested in you getting near them or us, right, Cas?” He looked around when there was no answer. "Cas?”

The angel was staring at the brush where the air seemed to be shimmering though no leaves or branches moved. The mirage effect was hypnotic, distorting the bushes and trees the longer they all stared, until the rippling effect shone so bright it hurt the eyes. The air that had felt arid before suddenly felt humid and uncomfortable, and behind Dean the demons shifted in confusion.

"Cas? What’s wrong?”

"I don’t know. Just a feeling.” As if feeling it physically, he rubbed at his stomach and winced at some internal pain.

Crowley stepped around Dean. “Angel radar going whacko?” He ignored Dean’s glare. “Or are you just dodging the questions?”

"I don’t have to explain things to you of all people,” Castiel answered without turning around. Crowley decided to take a chance and came to stand directly behind him at his shoulder.

"Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I could have gone to the angels. Now I’m in a state of leverage here and I quite like that around you.” He noticed Castiel’s head tilting a little and assumed he was listening to him. "So we’re going to all play nice and you are….”

"Shut up.”

Insulted, the demon gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

But Castiel appeared to be fully focussed on the mirage he was seeing and didn’t respond to the demon as he started to insult him. Dean came up to his other side and leaned forward to try to see what he was seeing. The smell in the air was suddenly sickeningly sweet, like corpses and jasmine, and he put his hand to his mouth to stop himself from vomiting in disgust. The ripple in the air became visible, as if something was straining to break through the shimmering in the air. As an orange glow began to slip through, the crack widened and a smell of sulphur overwhelmed the sweet smell.

"Cas?” he demanded.

"Dean, get back.” Castiel pushed him further behind him and even Crowley backed away, eyes widening in surprise. "Get back."

"What the bloody hell?”

The crack suddenly flared out and snapped, like a floodlight turning on. Light pooled out onto the trembling ground as smoke and ash poured out from the crack in the mirage. The smoke drifted down, pooling on the ground in the form of a woman. Castiel blinked, a feeling of dread making him stand frozen to the ground. She looked like a demon to him at first but she felt…different.

The female lifted her head and screamed just before her body exploded into ashes. The light she had come from burst outwards in an explosion that began to flatten out the entire clearing. Waves of sound and heat rushed out like a flash bomb and Castiel felt the pull of something actually tossing him away from the clearing, while Crowley and Dean spun into the air as the wind snatched them around. As Castiel twisted in the air, he caught sight of Dean landing in a pile of brush and being buried by wood-chips and dirt. With a roar and hiss, the white light sliced through the air again and he felt something more powerful than he was throwing him away from the clearing.

The demon who’d been standing just behind Crowley was the only one who stayed standing, feet almost glued to the ground as the others lay around him. He swayed and moaned as something kept his body tight and rigid. He’d been used to being the one possessing a body, to forcing the body to his will and taking what he wanted.

Now there was something else was latching onto his own demonic soul. Now he knew the fear of possession.

Arching his spine to bone-breaking limit, the demon threw his head back and screamed in agony.

~~

He wasn’t sure where he landed but it wasn’t far away from the explosion. His ears were still ringing from the force of it and he could still feel the heat on his skin. It almost felt as if he’d been knocked around by an Archangel and the ache brought back painful memories.

Laying in a daze, smelling blood and fire in the air, Castiel stared at the midday sun with a little bit of wonder. For a moment, he forgot how he had come to land on his back in the middle of a forest with sunlight touching his face; he couldn’t even imagine how it started. Then the aftershock from the explosion hit him fully and he started to choke on the blood in his mouth, rolling to his stomach and dry heaving as his body fixed itself from the force of the explosion. Any fractured bones slid back into place, his vision cleared, and eventually even the pain left his muscles.

He fisted his hands in the grass and pulled hard, feeling dirt in his fingernails and the slippery shoots ripping out of the earth. It helped bring him back to slow reality.

_What happened? Where was Dean?_

His memory was already blurry over it. He wasn’t even sure what he had seen but he had seen the light and felt something oppressive move through the air. Something that had made his own power feel stunted and tiny. Which experience told him was a terrible thing.

Castiel rocked back on his hands and knees, and slowly pushed himself up, dusting leaves and dirt off himself. Wiping at his bloody mouth, he focussed on the sky and searched for a sign of anything strange. But there was only the bright sparkle of sunlight on the tree leaves, a cool breeze, and that forest smell of dead leaves and wood.

“Dean?" he called out, but there was no answer this time. Even stretching out his power did nothing to help him; he couldn’t feel anything but the forest around him. He listened for any sign of Dean calling or praying to him but there was nothing.

"Castiel."

The sudden female voice behind him made him spin too fast and regret it as his vision swam a little in protest. Rocking unsteadily on his feet, he bent at the waist and spat out another mouthful of blood before looking up. The surprise he felt was genuine when he saw a familiar but tired looking angel staring back at him. The wrinkled black suit and studious framed glasses made her look out of place in the forest, even more than he did.

"Sandalaphon.” He watched her glare at him, caution making her keep several feet away. They both remembered how she had guarded her brother from him. And how eventually she’d betrayed him. Still Castiel didn’t trust her anymore than she trusted him. The angels had long since given up trusting each other so blindly anymore.  "Anya.”

Her nose wrinkled at the human nickname she’d taken. “Hello, brother.” Her eyes flicked to the angel sword he let roll down to his hand. “That’s not necessary.”

"What are you doing here?" He circled her and she mirrored him.

"I have a message for you.” 

"Not from your brother, I hope," he said and she flinched.

"He is your brother too, Castiel."

"I have more things to worry about than the Metatron." His fingers tightened on the hilt. A subtle warning that made Anya’s own hand go to her belt where her angel sword was tucked. 

"The message isn’t from him. I can’t tell you who it is from, only that He is sorry. That some things are necessary to make the way for a better world. That He’s sorry for what He had you do. Will have you do.”

"What- what you talking about?" he whispered. Some absurd hope sprang in his chest, welled up by a faith that he had kept buried for so long. He refused to let it show even to his own sister though; he knew what it would cost to show that to another angel, especially one like her. But Anya was gone before he could force her to answer, just quickly into the air and he debated on pursuing her. Confused by her sudden appearance and infuriated by the way she had left, it was the sound of someone fighting close by that snapped him out of it. 

"Dean?”

~~

Groaning, Dean picked himself up from the brush with a head that pounded and the taste of coppery blood and dirt in his mouth. Even when he spat it out, the taste was still there. His ankle ached from where it had been twisted and he was sure that if he moved too fast, he’d collapse again. Whatever had exploded out in the clearing had been enough to throw him like a rag-doll and make him feel weak. 

After wiping dirt out of his eyes, he looked around at the bodies of the demons still lying on the ground like corpses. Crowley was nowhere to be seen, nor was Castiel. There was only one demon left standing now, his back to Dean. Though he wasn’t any more trusting of demons than he had been years ago, he knew that if the demons had been knocked down like bowling pins then something big was coming their way.

Better a demon for a decoy than him.

"Hey, buddy,” he called out. "See what hit us?”

The demon’s shoulders were shuddering as the orange haze that had gathered on the forest floor continued to circle him. The low hiss of breathing was something Dean hadn’t heard in a long time, like a monster in a death throe or someone about to start weeping. What was the demon up to?

"Hey? You think that because your boss is gone you’re off the hook for answers?” Dean asked as he approached the demon, kicking at the fog and waving it away.

Slowly, like something from a horror film, the demon turned around and faced him. One eye orange and the other black, he fixed him with a fanged smile as a line of drool down its chin. Whatever semblance of a man the demon had was something Dean could look through easily and see something monstrous starting to show just under the surface. The grey skin was so tight around the human face that it was skull-like and the demon kept unhinging his thick jaw like a snake.

Whatever this was… wasn’t human-like right now.

He clenched Ruby’s knife tight in his fist, eyes darting around. “Cas?” he called out. The demon launched at him, bringing with him a sickening sweet stench that was made worse by the heat of his own body. Sweat dappled the demon’s forehead, as if he was burning up on the inside, and his eyes had a feverish glaze. 

Instinct kicked in and Dean parried the swipe, slicing at the demon’s stomach with Ruby’s knife and then spinning again to bury a smaller knife into the demon unprotected back. The demon shouted as the blade sunk into his muscles from behind, and Dean twisted the demon knife into his stomach deep, but there were no sparks. Instead, the flesh on the demon’s back seemed to close around the blade and in surprised horror, Dean watched the way the blade itself snapped at the hilt. Ripping Ruby’s knife out of the demon’s stomach, he swallowed and stared as the bloody wounds healed over as if being zippered from the inside.

Dean stared at the marks and then up at the demon’s hulking form as he laughed at him. He gave a weak smile back and then shouted just before his throat was grabbed and amazingly strong fingers squeezed his windpipe. Unable to breath, he kicked out repeatedly until he finally felt his foot make contact. The demon didn’t utter a sound as he threw Dean down on his back and the hunter rolled over onto his stomach, trying to scramble away the moment he was free. The demon landed on top of him and grappled with him until he was pinned down by that heavier weight.

"Dean Winchester,” the demon’s raspy voice whispered in his ear, hot breath smelling of sulphur and something rotted. It pushed his head into the dirt and Dean spat out a few clumps as he tried to wriggle out of the grip on the back of his neck.

"I know you?”

 "Part of me.” The hand on his throat loosened to stroke his neck, fingers tracking up the nape. "I remember sinking my - our - teeth into you.”

Dean swallowed nervously.

"Or at least, part of me remembers that. The other part remembers but she is elsewhere. She is still rising.”

Getting a leg up beneath himself, Dean kicked free with his other foot. Shoving up hard, he slammed his head back against the demon’s nose, heard a splinter of bone and the demon fell off him. Before he could move far, the demon was already grabbing at his legs, nails scraping over his jeans. Dean scuttled back on his feet as the demon charged at him and he rolled over again to avoid being trapped by its weight. He quickly crab-walked on his hands until his back met an overturned tree and turned his face, just in time shutting his eyes as the demon came within inches of his cheek. The demon snapped his teeth against Dean’s race with sharp click , just grazing the skin.

"You tried to kill me once. But you can’t stop creation, Dean, when it gets its chance. Poor, poor stupid little human.” The male voice was at odds with the almost maternal way he was being scolded and Dean tried to focus as his chest began to ache from sucking in too much air too fast. He tried to work it out though his head was spinning and his heart felt ready to rip out of his chest with how hard his blood was pumping.

"Eve,” he whispered finally and he turned his head to see the strange bi-coloured eyes fixed on his face.

"Hello, Dean. You’re only half-right, because I’m not only Eve the Mother now. I had to… share. Separate. Become something more. Thanks to this demon I’m using.”

Dean swallowed down the bile that rose as he realized what he was staring at. How the hell was a monster using a demon like this?

"Do you remember how willing I was to work with you all? And I was betrayed. So I think it is time I perfect my children. I want what I am owed. Life. My family.” Fingers digging into his throat, the creature hauled him close and he choked as the grip tightened. "Maybe it is fitting that the one who fed me the ashes of Phoenix is the start of that.”

Dean tried to think of some clever answer, something to buy him time even if it meant he was beaten to a pulp for his infamous sarcasm. But the ache in him was so deep now that it felt as if he was about to die if his heart didn’t stop beating so hard. The demon-monster’s now black eyes fixed on his face and Dean winced as it leaned in close, sniffing at his throat. He felt the faintest brush of fangs on his skin and in his head he prayed desperately for Castiel.

But the creature pulled back before those sharp teeth slid into Dean’s vulnerable throat and gave him a disturbed look. The once-demon dropped him to the ground and Dean felt his heart bang hard in his chest.

"You have a soul but its been twisted. Unusable.” The creature growled and he was sure he saw the eyes slit like a reptile’s. "What have you done, Winchester?”

“I…I…” He barely managed to stumble out more than a gasping breath before he had to stop. Dean’s heart pounded and his ribs burned from the struggle to breathe through the pressure he felt inside. The demon-monster continued to back away, snarling at him but at least backing away.

Dean never saw him leave the clearing. His hands and face felt numb from all sensation, and he began to hyperventilate around the pressure in his chest. But nothing could stop that pain in his heart. It felt like something was spiralling inside, cranking the muscle too tight and when he tried to look around for help, he only saw lights starting to swim in his vision. Unable to breathe, he clutched at his chest and prayed for help. 

As the ache in his arms and chest grew too much, Dean went to his knees, then his back on the forest floor. Grabbing at his arm as it went numb, he felt his heart squeezing even tighter and he tried to will the forest to stop spinning in circles around him while he fought the pain in his chest.

By the time Castiel found him, curled up on his side and his right arm clenched close to his heart, Dean’s prayers had gone quiet. The other demons were gone, bodies dragged off by what he could see, and it was only the hunter left. Not even stopping to check the surroundings, the angel ran to him, dropped to a knee and pressed his fingers to his pulse.

"Dean… Dean!” Flipping him onto his back, Castiel saw Dean staring up at him but he was unable to breathe properly or speak.

He pressed his palm flat on his chest and he felt the barrier of the magic the Trans had put on the Winchesters pushing back at him, keeping his Grace from healing Dean instantly. Ignoring the burn of power rejecting him, he tried to see what was wrong just by look at Dean’s ashen face. No sign of a demon’s power or even a monster’s poison, no bite marks or broken bones; it was as if Dean had just…collapse. This was something so basic and natural that it seemed inherently  _wrong_ to be happening to the hunter. 

What he found when he rested his hand over Dean’s ribs made Castiel stare dumbly.

Dean’s heart was giving out.

~~~

Sam looked at the rows of kid’s snacks and wondered how on earth he was going to get something Nyx could eat that Dean wouldn’t get into. From the bright colourful boxes to the cute characters, he knew that it was a losing battle to find something plain and simple. He was sure whatever he bought for the kid, Dean would finish happily.

How he ended up here was still a mystery. By all reason, he should be back at the bunker, pretending to get drunk with Meg while trying to see what her plans were as Dean had ordered him to. He should be making sure there was no trouble being caused by the demon and nothing lurking around the bunker. That was everything that he should being doing but here he was shopping for children’s snacks.

Sam just hated seeing a little girl so scared. Maybe if he found her something children usually liked, then maybe when she was happy he could think of a way to figure out what she really was under that innocent face and what could be happening between her and her mother. It was a tricky kind of logic but it had seemed like an easy enough thing to do.

Until he stood in the aisle and felt overwhelmed by all the boxes and sale signs staring back at him. Too many colours, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut as it made his head spin a little.

He had never realized how many choices there were for kid’s snacks. Picking up a package of cookies, he scanned the ingredients out of habit. “Jesus,” he muttered as he read the list. “That’s a lot of preservatives.”

Grabbing a box of plain animal crackers instead, he tossed it into the basket with the other groceries and debated on picking up the colouring book stacked invitingly on the rack across from the snacks. He had seen all of Nyx’s drawings proudly displayed on Linda’s refrigerator and knew the way she liked to colour when bored. Sam reached out but then immediately stopped himself. 

“Ok, this is just getting weird,” he muttered aloud. “You’re like the creepy uncle. Just get the food and get out.”

Sam grabbed the book anyway and tossed it in as he headed to the cashier with his overflowing basket. Dean wouldn’t forgive him for all the healthy food but better that than a three year old on a sugar high. He gave the cashier an uncertain smile as she looked at the groceries and then at the colouring book. He’d come here often enough that she knew his habits and he could tell she was surprised. She cracked her gum loudly and picked up the colouring book, arching her eyebrow at him when she read the cover.

“Cute.”

“Yeah," Sam shrugged as he started to count his bills out. "I thought so."

"You guys finally adopted?”

He looked up from his wallet. “What?”

"You and that other gorgeous guy. You adopted a kid? That’s so nice!” She dangled the book at him and he went a bit red when he realized what she was saying.

"Oh, he’s my brother and no. We got a friend visiting.”

"Oh.” She gave him a disbelieving ‘ah-huh’ sound before she scanned the items. As he watched the prices ring in, the digital text flickering repeatedly, Sam felt a sudden pounding pressure in his head. The slow onset of a headache he thought but the overall ache from head to toe with a slow crawl.

She was on his last item when he had to clutch the counter edge to keep himself from falling over at the pain in his head and chest. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but it was there and enough to make him need the support. The cashier gave him a worried look and, breathing heavily, Sam quickly handed over the money. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat noisily. “Yeah, I’m fine. Have a good night.” He snatched the plastic bags and banged into the shelving units on his way out, not even caring that he knocked a few cans over as he tried to find his balance. The minute he made it outside, he dropped the bags on the Impala’s hood and sank down to the curb, head in his hands. Staring at the ground in mute horror and listening to his own wildly beating heart, Sam knew that something was wrong with his brother. 

~~~~

“ _I told you that she shouldn’t have visitors, gentlemen.” Nasally pitched, the voice grated on Meg’s ears as she lay in her bed._

_"She was fine a few days ago,” a throatier voice muttered._

_"She woke screaming for her daughter and for an angel, and then she went catatonic. She has been in and out for nearly a month now. We need to consider moving her to a psychiatric ward. The state she is in may need far more care than this ward can give.”_

_The nasal-high voice cleared. “And the insurance, of course.”_

_Meg didn’t think that she was catatonic. She could clearly see the two strangers standing at her bedside and the doctor who’d been pumping her full of drugs. The one who had been saying she couldn’t move anymore. She was sure she could move if she really wanted to and maybe she was right._

_She’d woken up in this place. No memory of who she was or what had happened. She didn’t even know what daughter she’d been screaming for like this doctor had said she was. She felt like she was lost and the memory of what she was just out of reach._

_So she stared at them: barely able to blink, still unable to open her mouth and speak._

_"Well, lucky for you, Doc,” the shorter man said. "We got some therapy for her.”_

_The doctor huffed. “She is on every medication and physical therapy we can have in this hospital. I doubt your ‘therapy’ is going to work, sir.”_

_The PA crackled, a fuzzy voice garbling out orders that sent the doctor out of the room at a run. The two men at her bedside watched the doctor leave before they turned back to her. The larger one bent close and looked into her eyes; searching for something she thought._

_"She doesn’t look so good. Was this supposed to happen?”_

_"Not sure. Maybe it was an accident. An after effect or symptom.” The other man was unbuckling her hands from the restraints and she wanted to do something, anything, to force him to put them back on. She wasn’t sure what she was but she thought it made sense for her hands to be bound, to keep her down. For some reason the steady hold of the restraints made her feel safe in this room. He took her hand in his and she could feel the strength in that grip as he tested her pulse, and then shrugged. "Seems normal enough. Go get her.”_

_When the other man was gone, he leaned down and looked directly into her face with his green eyes, an almost flirtatious smile touching his lips. “You know, I never thought I’d miss your bitchiness but anything is better than coma girl.”_

_He turned away and she wanted to shout at him to look at her so she could try to figure out what he was familiar._

_A small Asian woman appeared holding a bundle in her arms. She shook her head at something one of the men said and Meg tried to focus on her as she approached the side of the bed. “She looks terrible.”_

“ _Hospital stays do atrophy muscles,” the larger man said as he came in behind her and locked the door. The woman sat beside her, and Meg’s foggy vision fixed on her though her eyes never moved._

“ _Hello, Meg. I brought you a visitor. This time you get to really see her since your eyes opened this week. She’s growing big.”_

_She held up a small baby, not very old, and Meg’s catatonic expression never changed though her focus fixed on the pink skin and blue eyes._

_This baby… this was hers!_

_As if in response to her thoughts, tiny hands reached out and touched her face and she felt a shock go through her, a sensation of feeling that brought life back to her muscles. The baby cooed and made garbled sounds as those beautiful blue eyes stared at her. As if she knew her and wanted to touch her more._

_Meg’s fingers twitched on the scratchy hospital blanket._

“ _It’s working,” someone said._

“ _Come on, baby girl.” The woman pressed her cheek against the baby’s. “Wake your momma up. It’s time she woke up.”_

_The baby’s other hand lifted and touched her face right over her eyes. Meg felt warmth flow through her, a drugging feeling, and she took in a deep breath as she regained slow control of every muscle in her body. Everything hurt from being asleep for so long but she forgot that as the baby continued to touch her. For a moment, it felt like she belonged here in this body with that warm touch comforting her._

_For the first time in a month, she blinked her eyes and her slack mouth closed and opened. Everyone took a collective breath but her eyes were only on the baby. The baby who touched her and cooed happily at the sight of her mother's slow grin._

“ _Nyx.”  
_

It was her first real memory after Castiel’s spell on her, and one Meg wasn't sure she liked remembering. She should hate that memory but she always relived it when she lay in a bathtub fully submerged, like she was now. It was how she had felt when she had woken up, no memory of who she was or what she was, that was always why she came back to that memory. Only that Nyx had been there and that her world would be fine even if her daughter was the only memory she had. So long as she had Nyx to defend. To give her a cause to serve.

Meg lay under the surface of hot water, feeling the way it slid over her smooth skin and the way her hair snaked around her body. Everything was sore again and she felt like she was crawling inside a drowning corpse the longer the water remained over her. Opening her eyes, she noticed the lights flickering and she released the breath she'd been holding.

Hauling herself up so she could lie against the back of the tub, Meg closed her eyes again and rested her head on the porcelain ledge. She’d only come in here because she’d yet to feel warm since returning to her true self. Her skin always felt cold and it was enough to disturb her, to get her to stay in boiling hot water for longer than any human could take it. Stuck in this body since the Lethe’s side-effects had trapped her, Meg knew her small frame inside and out and she knew that it was as desperate to feel any warmth as the demon herself was.

But already the bath was getting cold and she’d been in here too long. She stretched out her power and felt Nyx in the next room, talking loudly to her imaginary friends as she watched cartoons on the old television. With Sam out to get supplies, the bunker was otherwise quiet and still.

It didn’t help her concentrate. She was ready to destroy the bathroom out of absolute frustration. Only because she was so weak did it mean that the bathroom was left in reasonable shape though her darker power crackled and growled around her.

Turning around so she lay sideways in the water, Meg exhaled sharply before opening her eyes and focussing on the opposite wall and the shower curtain.

_Why had he done it? Why was she even now thinking about forgetting it all for the sake of getting rid of this feeling? For the sake of getting some sort of sense back to her messed up head?_

Meg shuddered and stood up from the water to stand on shaky feet, kicking the plug out before she grabbed a towel and wiped at her damp skin briskly. Each movement made her head spin from the too hot of water and the disoriented feeling left over from Castiel's spell. As she towelled off she tried to make a workable plan; with any luck, she could at least do some research on her own. The Winchesters had mountains of books and maybe there was some hint as to what she should do. Maybe even some inane prophecy or occult warning to give her a sign that she had missed before.

When Meg opened the door to the hall, she suddenly came face to face with Castiel, his own hand already lifted to knock. He stared at her, startled by the sight of her wet skin, and his mouth opened a little. Meg backed up a step to put more distance between them and her shoulder met the door. Suddenly wanting to be back to normal, to be how she had been years ago, she hitched the towel tighter around her small body and flipped her hair over a shoulder. The smirk she tried for came out as tremulous and shaky though; the towel covered her from shoulder to feet but damned if he didn’t make her actually feel naked.

Eyes lifting to her face, Castiel’s own expression went stony and cool when he saw the smirk on her face.

“You were in Maine,” she blurted out. Castiel nodded and didn’t say anything, nervously looking away from her instead. “Got back in a hurry? What, is a Touched by an Angel marathon on or something?”

He ignored that and turned his head a little to look down the hall. “I’ve been looking for Sam. Where is he?”

"Went to the store in town.” Meg blinked as abruptly he walked away from her, muttering about humans and never being where he left them. She hadn’t expected the brush-off. "Hey… hey!”

He slowly turned and looked at her with ill-concealed impatience causing his lips to tighten and his eyes to narrow. “Yes?

“What the hell is going on?”

“Dean’s been injured.” He adjusted his coat as if it concerned him more than she did. “I had to take him to a hospital for some care. I can’t heal him like I used to. Not since the spell was cast on him and Sam.”

“Sam left maybe an hour ago but he’ll be back.” Meg tugged the towel tighter and walked towards him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nyx still playing in the spare room but Castiel didn’t look over. Glancing up at him, Meg took another step and cocked her hip to the side, trying for nonchalance. “Dean still in Maine?”

"I brought him to the closest hospital with the doctors we needed.”

"Ah.” She bit into her lower lip and shrugged. "What got him? Demon? Angel? Killer bunny rabbit?”

Something about the look he gave her made her step back again. “I was hoping someone could explain that to me.”

She blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that? What do I know?”

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. “Never mind. I have to find Sam. Stay with Nyx and I’ll be back.” He gave her a frustrated once over when she rolled her eyes and walked by him. “Meg.”

When she looked over her shoulder, he reached out slowly. His hand touched the edge of the towel and he tugged it higher for her, his knuckles brushing her skin. It was an absentminded gesture, something he did out for the sake of it, but he dropped his hand immediately when he realized what he had done. Reaching up, Meg quickly fixed the towel herself and rubbed at the spot he had touched.

“Keep her safe,” he said.

Meg gave him an icy look. “What else am I going to do with her? Sacrifice her to the dark lord?”

Judging by the look he gave her, that wasn’t funny to an angel and probably even less funny to the child’s own father.

“I’ll be back.”

Meg huffed as he disappeared in the air. “Great. Sit and wait. Back to being appendage demon to an angel.”

She heard Nyx calling out to but she leaned back on the wall and thought it out instead of going to her. If Dean couldn’t be healed by angel mojo, if something had actually attacked him and Castiel out in Maine, then she knew there was something big about to go down. Something normally she’d duck under and avoid until she knew all the enemies and what they could do. But like it or not, Castiel had a point before. It had been easier when she’d run solo but now she had to protect Nyx. 

Damn, if she still wasn’t confused why she was so hell-bent on doing that.

~~

_Beep-beep-beep._

It was that low, steady drone, the sound of a respirator hissing up and down, and the pressure of an IV in his hand that made Dean realize he was in a hospital long before he could even open his eyes. The drugs were making it hard for him to wake up out of the deep sleep and he longed to fall backward into that dreamless sleep. He could still smell something sweet in the air, an undercurrent of death just under the strong odour of disinfectant.

A hospital. He hadn’t been in one of these for a while. 

Licking his dry lips, he wearily tried to move his sore arm and felt the tug of the I.V. pulling his hand back down. 

“Now now,” a deep female voice scolded him, “Don’t go pulling that out. We just got you settled and your friend was pretty upset. You’ll get him scared if you rip that out.”

His hand was patted and he tried to open his eyes to see who did it.

“You’ve had a heart attack, Mr. Winchester. A massive one and you had to be stabilized. It’ll be better for you to just rest and wait to ask questions later, okay? I’ll go see the doctor and you can sleep.”

_How was he going to call Sam if he feel asleep?_

“Squeeze my hand if you are in any pain.” He felt calloused but warm fingers slip into his and he squeezed, barely able to find the strength to do that. "All right, sweetie, you sleep and I’ll get you something for that.”

Dean let his fingers relax gratefully when the nurse let his hand go and the low serenade of the machines helped him drift off. 

~~

Standing on the other side of the glass, Sam tried to bury the panic he felt with anger. It was unfair — and he knew it — but he felt angry towards the one person he had trusted to keep Dean safe. He hadn’t said a word since Castiel had found him outside the store and with too much calm had told him that his brother was in the hospital. Sam had already known that something was wrong and with the same sort of connection he had known what had happened. But to hear it from Castiel brought it to a reality he didn’t want to face.

There was no fast healing for this through angelic power, Sam knew that. The brothers were connected by the soul and they had learned that meant a world of possibilities and restraints. They’d learned that Castiel’s powers had limits now when healing them. Sam just had to have faith that Dean would be okay and he found himself struggling to find that faith.

It still didn’t help the knot of fear that was building inside of him as he watched Dean’s grey-tinged face turn a little in his sleep, watched his chest rise and fall automatically thanks to the oxygen he was plugged in to. Knowing that Dean could have died and he hadn’t been there to protect him, cut Sam deeply. Guilt was already starting to work its way inside of him and he tried to think of any way he could have prevented this.

_Why had he let him go when they both knew they had to stick together?_

He had been vaguely aware of Castiel harassing nurses and doctors alike for answers. The angel hated not having answers for Sam and he had continued to pester everyone until an older nurse snapped at him to shut up and sit down; cowed, now the angel sat in the waiting room.  Sam wasn’t sure he could face him right now without exploding.

He’d forgiven him for so much before, because he always knew his heart was in the right place. Castiel tried to do the right thing and he had brought him to the hospital as fast as he could. But if Dean died, if he lost him….

What the hell had happened to his normally healthy brother?

"Mr. Winchester? You are his next of kin, correct?” Sam looked up to see an equally tall but very thin woman staring at him kindly. "I’m Doctor Sheran.”

 ~ 

Castiel sat with his hands folded on his lap and tried to ignore the urge to get up and place. He itched to move from the uncomfortable plastic chair; he was always like this in hospitals. Here he could do so much good: bringing hope to those that needed it, helping with the sick patients who could use a healing touch or talking to the lonely geriatrics long since forgotten in their wards. But he couldn’t even help Dean and that kept him seated, still edgy with frustration and hopelessness.

What made this worse was that he was struggling to focus on his friend when he was also worried about Meg and Nyx. They’d been left alone in the bunker and he knew through experience that it wasn’t the safest place in the world right now, compared to years ago. His own loyalty to the Winchesters and knowing Meg could handle herself helped him stay where he was. He checked his phone to bring up the contacts, his fingers pausing on the number to the bunker’s landline, but he stopped himself.

He needed to keep focused.

“They said it was unprecedented. Likely exhaustion and too much stress.” Sam’s voice snapped him out of it and he looked up to see the younger Winchester sitting across from him on another chair. He looked as tired as Castiel suddenly felt, slumping in the too small of chair and his eyes half-closed as he rubbed at his scruffy cheek. “My words, not theirs. No way of predicting it though the doctor thinks Dean had some signs before. That he likely ignored them.”

Castiel looked at his shoes. “I’m so sorry, Sam. We were separated and I still don’t know by what.”

“Yeah, I don’t — I don’t care.” There was a hardness in his voice that made the angel look up. “I get it. Something bad went down. I even felt it and we need to know soon what happened. But right now I have to wait for news on Dean. I have to be the big brother right now and that is so goddamn terrifying, Cas.”

Nodding in sympathy, Castiel leaned forward in his seat. “I will stay with you.”

"I think it is better that I stay by myself.” Sam took in a deep breath and noticed the look that crossed Castiel’s face. "I’m not blaming you, Cas. It’s just that I can literally feel his pain and he’ll only get one visitor at a time anyway.”

_And you can’t heal him._ The unspoken words nearly made Castiel cringe but he gave Sam a smile instead that had no feeling behind it. 

"I know, Sam. I’ll go back to Maine, see what I can find.”

"No, you won’t.” Sam met Castiel’s stunned gaze sternly when he stood up. "If something attacked Dean, you’ll put yourself at risk and I can’t let you do that. Go back and make sure Meg and Nyx are safe. Kevin’s making his way to the bunker as well and he said he had information for us. I need to know what it is.”

"I’m not so sure I should go back.” Castiel reached into his coat pocket and Sam noticed how he seemed to be jingling something in there. It wasn’t like him to have that sort of nervous habit and he seemed unaware of that he was doing it.

"If you don’t go back, then you’re hiding out and I know you’re not a coward, Cas. I’ll call you as soon as Dean wakes up.”

Looking like a kicked puppy, Castiel walked by him and paused to put his hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry, Sam.”

"I know.” Before he could get more than a few steps down the hall, Sam lifted his head. "Cas?” The angel turned and looked over his shoulder. “Thank you. The doctor said if you hadn’t gotten him here so fast, he’d be dead. I owe you.”

"No, you don’t,” Castiel answered. "We’re family.”

With just a shift in the air, he was gone in just a few strides and once again Sam was alone with just his thoughts to worry him. As the PA crackled out an emergency, he sat forward in his seat and watched as a crash cart went whizzing by him. Instantly he felt his adrenaline start to pump, sudden fear for Dean making his mouth dry and his heart pound. But the cart was pushed into another room and he slumped back in relief.

He could already hear the shuffling and chatter of the night staff coming on and knew that he wasn’t looking forward to a long night in the hospital. Crossing his feet at the angles, he leaned back until his head met the wall and stared up at the fluorescents. The headache he had started to pound and he closed his eyes, trying to will away the thought of Dean helpless and weak in the hospital bed out of his head.

~~

The once-demon sat on an overturned log in the forest and stared at the werewolves that had snuck into this place. They’d come to her call, the closest pack to feel it, and she smiled at them all in turn. Since taking the closest body, a pretty albeit half-destroyed female, she had set about making it hers and it had taken more than a little bit of power to do so. Her head turned this way and that, neck snapping as bones moved and fixed themselves to what she wanted. She had taken on a more physical form that she liked, ignoring the protest of the meatsuit, and transforming it muscle and bone back into something more innocent and beautiful.

This felt better, Eve thought. This felt almost like new.

The demons all lay still on the ground before her like supplicants at an altar. Her power forced them to stay down and she savoured the sight of them in such poses.

"Things could have been so easy before. But your King, his demons and his humans, made it so hard. So very hard.”

She cracked her neck loudly once more before she stood up and walked towards them, a trail of fetid black ooze following her. Her smile remained serene, as if she didn’t care about the damage she had just done. 

"Demons." Her nose upturned in disgust. "Parasites."

She had never hated demons before, not really. They had all worked together at one point in a strange balance. Now, because of them, she was divided in what she thought and felt, and in how she acted.

"You." Reaching down, she pulled a demon up by his collar. "Who do you serve?"

He blinked through the sweat that dripped into his eyes. “…Crowley.” Summoning what courage he had, he glowered up at her. “And he will gut you again, whore.”

Her eyes flickered and with just an easy clench of her fingers she cracked his skull open. Making a moue of disappointment, she dropped the bits of brain and scalp to the forest floor and for good measure snapped her fingers to send the demon to death.

The other demons were shaking as she knelt in front of the next one. As she went to the ground, Eve had to press her hand to her belly to keep the eggs nesting there from dropping out out of the open gash. Those precious changed souls had to stay with her and she would guard them with her life. If she had been whole, healing would have been so much easier. But it was slow, painful even, and she had to hold herself together with more power than she had used before. Maybe, Eve considered as she studied the male demon, it was because part of her was gone to hunt their prey.

_Where had the other part of her gone?_

“Why did Crowley send you here?”

“We… we were to wait to see what happened. To wait for the Winchesters.”

Eve’s eyes glinted to black as the soul she was attached to fought her. She had to shake her head to get it back under control and inside her own head she felt demon and human soul shrieking for her to leave them alone. Growling low, she sent an inward power out and felt it slowly, methodically, crushing those souls.

They'd be nothing but ashes soon. Leaving her with this sweet body to do as she willed.

“The angel wasn’t supposed to be here,” another demon hissed to himself and her eyes darted to him.

“Why?”

He shut up and bent his head obstinately. Grabbing him by his throat, Eve lifted him and tilted his neck to the side. She sank her teeth in sharp to the jugular, tasted the blood that flowed sweet on her tongue, and instantly a flood of brief memories from him told her what she wanted. Brief glimpses of Crowley, of Dean Winchester and Castiel, showed her that they’d been here and argued. But the angel and hunter had known that something was to happen, and Eve moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she tasted the demonic sulphur in the blood.

Eve let him go when she’d drunk her fill and wiped daintily at her mouth as he lay on the ground, twitching as the venom in the bite start to try to change the meatsuit. His eyes flew open and stared at the sky, hands clenching in the soil.

Smirking, Eve scooped a handful of the eggs from her gaping wound and forced one of the tiny balls into his mouth. He choked on it and she held her hand over his mouth to force him to swallow; his gulping sounds were throaty and she cooed to him lowly. If he'd been human, her bite would be enough to turn him into something devastating. A demon could take the venom, fight it, but using the eggs with their pure souls would make this easier.

The other demons tried to run, to get away from her power, but she was on them before they could more than a few inches. One by one, she bit into their meatsuits before she force-fed them the tiny eggs and more than a healthy dose of her own power.

As she fed on demon blood, the entry to Purgatory began to pulse and a flicker of fire shone out before red light shrieked through with a hum and swam into the demons' twisted bodies.

But Eve was already thinking and forgetting their very presence.

“Impossible,” she thought aloud, flicking her tongue out to taste a fleck of blood. Crowley had sent them here but from what the demon’s memories told her, he was also looking for something else. He had left Hell to look for… another demon?

Eve grew slowly aware that the blood in her body was tainted from a meatsuit's disease and she spat the foul taste out.

When she looked down, the bodies were already rising. The meatsuit faces were already half rotted as the demon and monster souls that coiled within them fought for supremacy and the meatsuit was slowly broken from the pressure, the human soul buried even further by the power overwhelming it. Kept so close to their Mother for so long, the souls they were now infested with knew her mission intimately. They were her newest brood and she wanted the demon blood to perfect them.

Eventually, all of them would come to her completely. Her entire family.

"Hello, children." Eve’s eyes glinted in maternal pleasure. "Time to work."

Standing in the tree stand close-by, the creature that wore Adam Milligan’s face smirked thoughtfully. He could see, the way only an angel and demon could, the split in Eve’s power.

She was changed. Divided.

A useful tool.

Far below him, he could feel Hell, which still remained locked to him, writhing in its pained throes as monsters invaded and tore the walls down around the demons. He even thought he could hear the calls of the Legion as they were unleashed.

It might take months for the monsters to be expelled again, months for the demons to realize the damage as Eve’s new manipulations began to infect them and the humans on Earth. Months before even the angels moved against her.

Whether she realized it or not, Eve had helped him.

~~

Stepping into the bunker only made Castiel feel more heartsick and alone than he had before. Without the Winchesters, the halls seemed dark and lonely, with no warmth or conversation. He’d come to look at this place as his home but really, without them it felt empty, even though he could hear the television and smell toast. Slumping against the wall leading to the common room, he closed his eyes and for a second felt the human urge to slam his fist into the wall.

It was too clear to him still. He could still see Dean’s pain all over his face and the way he had shook and tried to find the words. Castiel had nearly watched his friend die before his very eyes. He had never felt that helpless as an angel before but this time he had been.

He let his head rest back on the cold concrete brick and listened to the low sounds of the bunker. Just down the hall Meg was reading something aloud, barely able to be heard over the hum of the generator, and he closed his eyes as he chuckled bitterly. Three years ago he would have gone to her seeking comfort, letting her caustic view of the world challenge him and force him to relinquish the power of angel righteousness to her more basic demon sensibilities. Three years ago he would have thought it strange but done it anyway because it would bring some consolation.

But right now, he knew if they met he would deliberately fight with her as a way of punishing himself for what had happened to Dean. He wasn't sure why he knew that, just that it would happen. If he had learned one thing about himself in his time as a human, it was that he was more than willing to hurt himself and even others if he thought he needed to.

Castiel rolled himself away from the wall and made his weary way towards Dean’s room to pack a bag for him. Sam hadn’t asked him to do so but it would keep him busy until he was ready to face Meg again. Swinging open the door, he took in a deep breath and nearly took a step in without thinking.

A small voice in the room across from Dean’s stopped him. He knew who it was, knew he should just move on.  _Just move on,_ he thought to himself but he heard her giggling. Closing Dean's door again, he crossed the hall instead while still listening to Nyx as she talked to someone.

Forcing down his instinct to run in and be sure she was okay, Castiel instead cracked the door open further and peeked around it. The spare room had been made almost homey with the blankets tossed around and a lamp casting warm light over once sterile and cold walls. As he leaned against the doorframe and took the room in, he remembered the long nights he had slept in here himself. They weren’t the fondest of memories and it had never felt like his own room.

But the sight of his daughter sitting, surrounded by heavy blankets and pillows in an apparent fort, made him smile and move to lean against an old desk. Unaware of him, Nyx was making noises as she played with her torn toy and he saw her impatiently push her dark hair over her shoulder like her mother would. She turned on the bed and grabbed a drawing full of black scribbles only to scratch through it with an orange crayon. Still muttering away, she bounced around until she was in the same spot as before and tossed the drawing away.

Curled up on the big bed, Nyx looked so comfortable and happy that he took a seat on the edge of the bed by her instead of leaving. She was talking lowly as she played with her unicorn to some imaginary friends of hers that she always talked to, or so Dean had said.

Castiel marvelled at that. His daughter seemed so happy to retreat into imagination, which was a remarkable thing to him; angels and demons were not given to much imagination beyond manipulation.

_His daughter_ . Heaven, that felt good to think and Castiel felt more than a little pleasure and pride in it. He smiled as he watched her and waited until she stopped talking before he cleared his throat.

“Nyx?”

She jumped when she realized he was there, grabbing the toy up between them to hold it protectively. Castiel watched her huddle up in her stack of blankets and pillows before she stared up at him wide-eyed. He gave her a half-smile and made sure to look relaxed.

It was easier to focus on her than to stay angry with himself. Nyx's eyes were searching his with a directness only a child could have and he made a point of looking down at her unicorn.

“He needs to be fixed,” he said after a long pause, pointing at the stuffed toy. She looked down at it, nervously licking her lips, and Castiel still smiled as he waited. Finally Nyx looked back up at him, clearly puzzled by his comment. “I can fix him for you, if you want.”

“Like him like this,” Nyx muttered though she was pulling at the stuffing from a rip with her tiny fingers. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes with her other hand. “He wasn’t happy bein’ pretty.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what to say as she continued to play with the stuffing. If she was happy he would leave it, he decided, and he scrambled to think of something better to say. But when one of the tiny black eyes fell off and left a gaping hole in the unicorn's head, he saw her lower lip tremble and realized she had been lying. She picked up the eye and tried to fix it back onto the unicorn herself just by pressing it into the ruined fabric. His own heart almost hurt when her eyes welled with tears of frustration because her toy was so ruined.

“Nyx?”

Her tired little face turned up to him and he smiled, holding out his hand.

“Can I fix him? Please?” he asked and with tearful nod she handed the toy over to him. Castiel looked down and ran his fingers over the unicorn’s body. It was likely such silly thing to use his Grace for but he didn’t want her to cry like this. 

The stitching repaired, the splotchy fabric cleaned itself, and the small stub of a faded glitter dappled horn fixed upright as his power manipulated it. Nyx watched, unable to hide how curious she was as his fingers glowed a little. Castiel caught her watching, smiled at her and then looked down as he finished his work. He left it a little imperfect, as she seemed to like it that way with its patchy look, but he made sure to strengthen the seams.

When his fingers snagged on a bit of stitching, he even wondered how many times Linda had fixed it for her. He stroked the faded purple fabric as the last thread knotted itself and noticed the way she stared at him now. There was still some distrust there but she looked like she was trying so hard to remember him clearly.

He handed the toy back to her and she hugged the unicorn tightly. “He’s all better. Is he your friend?” he asked, trying hard to remember how to talk to such a small child.

“Clarence is my best friend,” she admitted and he winced a little at the name. Nyx pressed her cheek to the now clean fabric and didn’t seem to notice Castiel’s look. It hadn’t been until she said the toy’s name that he realized that Meg hadn’t uttered one of her nicknames for him since he’d brought her back. Not _feathers_ , _wings_ , _tree topper_ … _Clarence_ … none of that. While before her constant teasing and nicknames had been exasperating, now he missed them.

He watched as Nyx continued to press her head into the material as if to hide from him. Carefully, he stretched his power out over her mind and felt remnants of a nightmare there. Before he could get much further, something nudged at him. Like a closing door, he was pushed back but he knew what he had felt.

She'd been dreaming and had been scared of whatever it was.

"Nyx, are you having bad dreams?” he asked. She blinked and looked up at him before nodding. Castiel sighed at the fear he felt in her. “I felt your dreams.”

He knew she was confused but he reached his hand out slowly to pat her knee. “You can… if you have a bad dream, you can find me.”

She stared at him, obviously still nervous with him so close. Castiel patted her knee again before he stood up and dusted himself off. He was almost at the door when heard a faint sound behind him that made him turn to see Nyx fumbling with her fingers nervously.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her childish voice stumbling a little as she nervously looked away. Though she spoke with the usual hesitant way a child trying to learn their words might, he knew what he had heard. Taking it as a signal, Castiel smiled and came back to sit beside her on the bed. He watched the top of her dark head until she finally looked up at him. Nyx chewed on her lower lip and finally crossed her hands over her chest in imitation of Meg when she was angry.

When she was still quiet, Castiel knew he had to speak first. “Nyx, why don’t you want to talk to me?”

Maybe it was stupid to hope that her fear would give so quickly but it was obvious she knew what he meant.

“Don’t ‘member you,” Nyx said petulantly and with the typical sort of childish attitude, she forgot that he had helped her. “But you make mommy sad. You...go away!”

"I-I can’t,” Castiel whispered in surprise. "I wanted to help her too.”

His daughter’s eyes appeared to grow darker the longer she looked at him. She stuttered and lisped over her next words but it didn't keep them from cutting. “If I had—had a daddy, he’d make you go!”

Closing his eyes, the angel steeled himself against childish misunderstanding and anger. “Nyx, I’m your father.”

“Not suppose-ta lie.” She raised the unicorn tighter to her face. "You not around.”

“I would have…”

“Bad people lie. Aunt Linda said bad people lie.” Those blue eyes fixed on him. "You hurt mommy and you lied! Daddies don’t hurt, don’t lie.”

He flinched because,  _Heaven_ , she was too quick and too bright to lie to. “You can do both, Nyx. I’m not lying this time. Remember?”

His fingers abruptly touched her arm and a sudden shock of electricity made him pull his hand back. It was as if she was warning him and the crackle that made his fingers tingle was familiar. It reminded him of when he had first felt her power, when even in the womb she had thrown him outside Rufus' cabin.

Nyx blinked a few times to hide her tears before she sniffled loudly. His hand brushed over hers again, gentler so that this time there was no shock. Only the tremble of her skin beneath his touch.

“Do you remember me? My touch? My voice?” Her head lifted up and he used his Grace to slowly let the memories he had kept tucked away, safe and sound, be shared with her. Memories of his murmuring to her as a pregnant Meg had slept, of the constant thread of connection he had used to keep her feeling safe and calm. Of how he had touched Meg's stomach and projected his devotion to her.

"I used to talk to you when you were safe and tucked away inside your mother. As a baby,” Castiel whispered and he crossed his legs on the mattress. Nyx plucked at her toy’s fuzzy mane and he let his Grace ease away from her. “You remember my voice, don’t you? Remember how I told you stories and talked to you?”

Nyx nodded and he smiled. “I missed talking to you,” he admitted. Nyx sniffled hard again, still looking confused.

“Why’d you come?”

"I want to protect you.”

"From bad people? The ones that hurt?” Nyx looked upset and he noticed the more upset she was the harder she had to work at her words. "But you bad. You left.”

"Sometimes we can be bad when we want to be good.” 

Her small head tilted down and stubbornly she shook her head. “You hurt mo-mommy.”

"I didn’t want to. I loved her… still love her, and love you,” he said. "Nyx, I…"

"Don’t want me,” Nyx whispered and her voice was so soft that he almost thought he hadn’t heard her right. Horrified by what he had heard, he could only stare at her.

Suddenly he realized why Nyx was stuck on him being a bad person.  She’d had Meg but she’d not had him and he remembered how close they had been connected even when she had been inside of Meg, even when she had been newborn. She was a child of an angel and a demon; it made too much sense for her to have a better memory than a normal child. If her memory of him had been reawakened before, like Meg’s had, then he didn’t know what exactly she remembered. He let his power search a little deeper and felt what she was feeling through that connection. 

She thought he hadn’t wanted her. She’d thought she had been abandoned by him because he didn’t want her.

"I did want to be with you, both of you.” He looked at his hands. "Badly.”

She sniffled hard and looked down at the unicorn he’d fixed. “Left.”

"I came back.”

"You hurt.”

Castiel had no answer for that. Nyx was already proving intuitive when it came to her parents. She was smarter than he had thought possible but Castiel knew she was struggling to understand. He wasn’t even sure what to say to help her.

"Castiel.” Meg’s voice was pitched low and he turned to see her standing at the door. Her face was strained and she looked curiously tired. "She should be asleep.”

As if frustrated by her mother, Nyx huffed. “Not tired.”

"Listen to your mother,” Castiel said automatically as Meg came to stand beside the bed. She raised an eyebrow at him in surprise but he ignored it. "You need to go to bed.”

He saw that little jaw tense up and was immediately reminded of Meg yet again. “Don’t have-ta listen to you.”

"Yes, you do. Go to sleep,” he said, ignoring her huffiness and pulling the top quilt back. She scooted underneath, grumbling the entire time, and tucked herself in before turning her back to them. Castiel shook his head. How stubborn she was! She reminded him of Meg in more ways than he had realized.

Gently, he touched her shoulder as he tucked the unicorn in with her and saw her tiny arm latch around its neck in a chokehold. His Grace circled her and being as discreet as he could he let it lull her to sleep. Whether she wanted to or not, the familiarity of it seemed to soothe her. When he finally stood up, Meg was staring down at Nyx with arms crossed over her chest. Their eyes met and he followed her to the hall without pause.

There was something ominous in the way Meg closed Nyx’s door behind herself.

"She’s very smart,” he said when the silence was too much. "I can feel it.”

"Well, angel-demon baby has to have some brains I guess.” Meg leaned back against the door. "Gets it from me I bet.”

"She’s remarkable, Meg,” he continued, unable to help the pride in his voice. The demon eyed him skeptically.

"She’s also hurting.”

That yanked him out of his pleasant mood. “And that’s my fault, I know,” Castiel snapped irritably.

"Not just yours.” She shook her head and started to walk away from him. Castiel gave Nyx’s room one last look before he followed her towards the common room. "I ignored her earlier. My head’s been hurting and I forgot how she…. Well. Sometimes I still don’t think my brain is used to being in Mommy Demon mode.”

"You are good at it.”

"Gee, thanks, Castiel,” Meg said sarcastically. "Glad you approve of how I raised the lil’ bit after this many years.”

His own emotions were rubbed raw after seeing Dean lying in the hospital, after learning how Nyx was afraid he hadn’t wanted to be her father. He had to remind himself that Nyx was in the other room in order to calm down.

“So what happened with the Winchesters?”

"Dean suffered from a heart attack,” he explained through gritted teeth.

"Considering all the booze and pie, there’s a shocker,” the demon said. She was so thoughtless about Dean's condition that Castiel grabbed her arm and yanked her around.

"This isn’t funny, Meg.” Her eyes snapped to black immediately in reaction and he let fragments of his own power show in his. "These are my friends.”

"Sorry if you think I should give a fuck about Dean and Sam Winchester but I’m a demon again. I don’t care,” she said, voice low so that he knew she was angry. "I will never care, Castiel. Don’t try to make me seem human just because the old me is awake and you forgot what I was like.”

"After all we’ve been through,” he started, wanting to defend Dean and Sam. The peace he’d almost found with Nyx evaporated completely when faced with Meg.

"Hi, I’m Meg. I’m a demon.” She jerked her arm free and waved her hand over her face before she started to walk away. "Or is that still hard to tell?”

"Just because you are a demon doesn’t mean you need to be a…”

Meg ground to a halt and turned slowly on her heel to stare at him. He stuttered on his next word and she arched her brow. Approaching him with a threatening swagger, she gestured encouragingly. “Come on, Castiel, say it. Spit it out!”

“Bitch,” he said finally, goaded. Meg’s smirk transformed into something cruel.

“You learned you some big boy words while I was amnesia girl, huh?” Castiel glared at her as she spoke in that mocking high voice. She reached out and roughly pinched his cheek. "Guess you let Dean teach you some things about how to actually treat us demons.”

He grabbed her hand when she touched him. “Don’t do that.”

"You’re just pissed because I’m not living up to what you wanted,” Meg continued. "What’d you expect? Sweet reunion? Me forgetting it all?”

She tugged on her hand and he tightened his grip so that he felt the delicate bones in her wrist grind together. “Let me go, Castiel,” she warned. 

"No.” It wasn’t clear if he was answering her questions or her demand.

Meg’s eyes were onyx even under the fluorescents and she swung out her fist hard, aiming for his jaw. He caught the blow before she could follow through and they spun together even as she tried to telekinetically shove him away. Using her weakness to his advantage, he pinned her against the wall and kept her hands trapped in his. The circle of his arms kept her braced and unable to run, kept her still.

Though he knew he should feel some desire as she was pressed into him and she was so close, he was only aware his anger at her and the way she continued to find ways to get under his skin. Three years later and she still frustrated him more than he liked to admit.

“Let. Me. Go.” Meg spoke slower, as if to snap him out of it, and he cautiously let her arms go. He had already aggressively backed her up to keep her from slipping by him and he made no move to let her pass.

“I am trying to protect you both but you are deliberately…”

“Can you think of one reason why this should be easy for you?” Meg ground out and he ignored the way she glared at him as she was going to go for his throat. “One damn reason.”

“Because I can’t let Nyx see something like this,” he growled low and he leaned down as if to punctuate his warning. “Play the demon all you like but we both need to protect her from whatever it is that is starting to hunt us.”

“Play the—.” She shook her head, still almost shaking in her anger as she looked away. Castiel watched her face closely and when she turned her head back around he was so close he could see his own reflection shimmering in her black eyes. He waited to see if she was about to fight him and the longer he waited, the more he began to notice details he might not have noticed if she distracted him. The faint press of her hips on his, the almost heady scent of her, her anger at him causing her face to flush, the way her trueface was nearly snarling at him to back off…

_God, it was so beautiful._

Horrified with his own sudden reaction to her, he backed off and noticed her watching him warily. When he saw how her chest rose and fell rapidly, he knew he wasn’t the only one who had felt thrown by their proximity. 

They stood in awkward silence, Meg still against the wall and Castiel breathing just as deeply as she was. He swallowed and shook his head, trying to clear it of the muddle she’d caused. He wasn’t even sure how she did that, even if it wasn’t deliberate, but it felt familiar.

The loud bang of someone dropping something heavy on the iron grate caused them to look away from each other.

“Am I interrupting?” Kevin asked. He grinned at them and then lost it when he realized that it wasn’t romance he was interrupting

“No," Meg snapped and she rocked forward. "We’re done here."

“No, we aren’t." Castiel’s arm moved to brace on the wall and blocked her from going. Kevin swallowed as he watched the demon’s head turn slowly towards Castiel. "We’ll be with you in a second."

The prophet stared at Meg. “You’re back to normal?”

She refused to look at him, her eyes on Castiel again. “Define normal.”

“Kevin, go.” The angel glanced at him. “Now.”

Hands in the air, Kevin almost ran out of the hall and Castiel turned back to Meg.

"Are we going to spend the rest of our lives fighting?"

"Rest of our lives?" she repeated and then rolled her eyes. "You are so damn dramatic. Seriously."

He simply stared at her. “What do you want from me?” he asked. “Apologies? More explanations?”

"How about we can end this soap opera level angst for a while? My head can’t take it."

He didn’t move. “You should have been able to fight me. But you still feel weak.”

“Oh, we can fight later if we have to. Just not in the mood now.” Meg jerked in her place when she felt him close in on her again. Eyes watching his face cautiously, she clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides.

“Your head?”

“Just headaches. It feels like memories coming back and just tiring me out and then there’s you getting all angel on me. Can’t say I feel like putting up with much.”

Castiel reached out and brushed his fingers over her temple, and Meg at first tried to pull back until his power snared her. He murmured something under his breath and his touch firmed until she felt his two fingers pressing on her forehead. The cool touch sent a numbing sensation through her skin, his Grace touching at her darkness until the two coiled around each other. The feeling was strangely intimate and he watched her lips part in surprise, her body just slightly arched into his. Her darkness snarled and bit at his light but he braced his other hand over her head and waited as his Grace found the cracks in her power until he realized that she wasn’t fully healed yet from the effects of the spell. It was strange to be this close to the demon again and he found his eyes drooping a little as he tried to help her heal.

He felt her darkness crackling finally, as if it was a groggy thing being woken up again, and heard her make a low fluttering sigh. Head touching the wall behind her, Castiel breathed out and his fingers eased their pressure. When they both woke from the stupor they were in, he was pressed fully against her and he could feel her breath on his neck. Meg’s eyes lazily opened and her head turned to let him see her eyes had become brown once again. Then the haze lifted and she realized what had happened. 

With a shove, she pushed by him and shook her head. “Whatever  _that_ was about. Thanks for the boost, I guess.”

He wasn’t sure if she was stronger but she did seem to be reacting faster. The sudden shift between them was confusing and Castiel tried to think of something to say. One look at her closed off expression had him wisely changing the subject. 

"You know that she’s dreaming?”

She nodded. “I felt it and it was weird. You?” At his nod, she sighed. “She never used to dream like that I think.”

Castiel glanced at his hands. “What should we do?”

“We?” She pointed between them. "There is no…”

“Whether you like it or not,” he interrupted, “we are going to have to work together. Somehow.” He looked down the hall. “You should speak to Kevin about what he’s seen.”

The demon followed his glance down the hall and then looked at him. “What does the kid have to do with any of it?”

“Whatever he’s been dreaming, Meg, has been about you and about Nyx. Ask him about the hellhounds.” Putting his hands back in his pockets, he backed up a step to let her by. "I’ll see to Dean and Sam.”

"Fine.” She walked around him, carefully putting distance between them. He stared the wall he’d kept her against, imagining he could see her shadow imprinted there, and let her get a few steps.

“Meg.”

The demon glanced over her shoulder at him. He looked up and then shrugged.

"I think you’re right.”

He was gone before she could ask him what the hell he meant.

~~

Hands tented under his chin, Sam watched the slow, forced way Dean’s chest would rise and then fall. Now that he was supposedly in the clear, the hiss of the machines wasn’t as loud as they had been before but they had kept him under sedation and oxygen a little longer just to be sure. After the last check-up, the doctor had made Dean’s recovery seem so simple. Rest, medication, quiet living for a while would make everything okay.

Sam rolled his eyes and rubbed at them. Right. Quiet living. That would happen. They clearly didn’t know his brother.

He reached out and patted Dean’s hand fondly. “Gonna have to watch out for you this time, big brother,” he whispered. “We’ve been through too much for you to croak over a heart attack. That’s too easy. You die, then it’ll be when you’re going down in a blaze of glory with me at your side and we both know it.”

He looked down and removed his hand slowly before putting his hands to his head and wearily clenching his fingers in his hair. His own heart no longer hurt and even the tingling in his arm was gone, though he thought his fingers still felt a bit numb. His headache was still there, throbbing in his temples and making him feel ill.

"You know.” Dean’s voice was hoarse and he coughed harshly. Sam’s head jerked up and he saw that his brother’s eyes slitted open just a little, just enough for him to distinguish the green of them. "That was a crappy pep talk.”

He tried to laugh and started coughing again. Quickly grabbing the water left on the bedside table, Sam helped him lift his head and held a cup to his lips until the water was drained. Sighing, Dean wearily sagged back on the pillows.

"Damn it, Dean.” Sam chuckled. "You scared me.”

"Scared myself.” His eyes fluttered before focussing on the ceiling. "Where am I?”

"Lawrence Memorial. Cas winged you here when you collapsed. I found the fake insurance Garth set us up with so we should be good for a few more days if we need it.”

“Thank God for that.” Dean plucked at the IV. "When can I get out?”

“Soon. They wanted you on observation.”

“Damn, I want out _now._ I just…damn I hate hospitals.”

"Yeah, I know.” Sam smiled and pulled the chair closer. "Look, Dean, I…”

"You felt it too, huh?” Dean rolled his head on the pillow toward him. He saw his brother nod, saw how earnestly he looked at him, and realizing what was wrong he sighed weakly. "Sammy?”

"Yeah, Dean?”

"I was scared too.” Dean sniffed hard as if to hold back tears and masked it by rubbing at his eyes. The sight of his brother, his strong and capable brother, caving under the fear made Sam swallow down the lump in his throat. "Knife wounds, gun shots, even monster bites I can deal with. But a heart attack?” Dean shut his eyes a little as the drugs kicked in. "Didn’t see that coming.”

"No one would.”

"Cas couldn’t heal me.”

"No. Said that the spell on us makes it hard for him to solve anything like this.” Sam glanced at the monitor to be sure Dean wasn’t just going to suddenly fade on him. His voice was so slow that it was clear he was about to fall asleep again soon and the monitor showed his heartbeat was slowing just a little.

"I saw her, Sam. But it wasn’t her. Body was all different but it was just like her.”

"Who?”

"Didn’t bite me though. Said there was something wrong with me just before my heart gave out.” He blinked and his eyes widened as if remembering something. "What the hell came out of there? I…I....”

"Dean, who did you see?” Sam demanded when his brother’s words began to slur even more. 

Dean’s head rolled back toward him, eyes shutting and his hands going slack on his chest. “Eve. Or something like her.”

~~

Standing just inside the emergency room of a Kansas hospital, the monster stared up at the people who had come in for late night help. Broken bones, bloody cuts, heart attacks; he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth and tasted their weakness on his tongue. He could smell the humans, the medicine, the sickly scents of death lingering within the hospital. Under the odours, he could smell demons. Demons who were waiting for someone or something to give them orders. Somewhere, deep in this hospital, they were manipulating and serving their purpose for their ruler.

The awareness in him was so strong that he licked his lips hungrily.

He was vicious where she had been kind, interested in only destruction where she had been concerned with creation. They shared the same thoughts and memories, even the same mind because they’d once been the same. But now, separated by hundreds of miles and thousands of people between, he was free to do their joint will.

Licking his lips once more, he started for the desk and tapped the bell repeatedly for the joy of it.

A young man in red scrubs looked up and quickly removed the bell from his reach. “Can I help you?”

"I need something from you.”

"Do you have an illness or injury?”

"Oh, illness. Though I am a cure.” He laughed as if that was the most hilarious joke he had ever heard. "I guess you could say it depends on your definition of the word.”

The nurse gave a roll of the eyes and looked closer at him to do his own assessment. The glassy eyes, so bloodshot the whites of them were nearly gone, the grey tacky texture to his skin, his too thin of face having the gaunt and hollow look of a starved man, and his head appeared to move at odd angles when he looked around in a bird-like way; all of it looked like he was deathly ill. Nodding that it was likely a drunk who had staggered in, he quickly jotted something down on a form.

"We’ll get someone in to make sure you aren’t too sick to make it home, sir. What’s your name?”

He licked his lips again, though there were no moistening such chapped and thoroughly bitten skin. “What was the first man of your kind called?”

"Uh…” Thrown off-guard, the nurse nervously looked at the larger woman behind him. She eyed the drunk thoughtfully but shrugged. They’d seen worse here. "If we’re talkin’ the Bible, sir, that’d be Adam.”

"Adam. Huh. I forgot all about that. Such a human name, much like my other one.” The grin widened and instead of softening the features it turned him perfectly horrific. "I’m Adam. Here to be a Father until the Mother finds me.”

His eyes slicked to black, twin bottomless depths made hypnotic by the light dancing within it like flame. The nurse stared into his eyes with nothing short of wonder.

"I need sons and daughters.” Adam reached out and stroked his face. "I will be a far kinder father to you than your own, Jeffery.”

"How did you…”

Leaning over, Adam kissed him on the mouth deeply and the young man sagged forward when he let him go, his lips torn open and bleeding. He began to convulse on the desk so violently that the older nurse shouted his name and Adam turned, hand touching her face to stop her.

"Even one such as you has your worth.” She had frozen, equally hypnotized by his eyes. "Tell me, Lenora. Do you believe in angels and demons?”

"I… yes.”

"Monsters?"

Her voice was tiny. “Now I do.”

"Thank you so much. I'm glad.” Adam’s politeness was marred by the fangs that suddenly slid down from his gums as he leaned forward. "This will hurt.”

The warning was only to keep her still and rigid as he buried his teeth in her neck. Her eyes rolled back in her head when a sharp pain went through her from head to toe, paralyzing her in her place, and when he released her she fell back heavily on the tiled floor. Like her fellow nurse, she began to shake and pitch around.

Both of them died within moments of the venom settling in their bodies.

Reaching up, Adam sucked on his bloody fingers and turned away. “Come on,” he called out in a sing song voice and the lights above him flickered, making shadows dance through the room. His power bent the reality around them, stilled it, and he let it send fresh pulses of life into the corpses. The dead reanimated slowly and he watched the muscles twitch and the blood streaking from their mouths turn black. His grin, still malicious, widened as both nurses’ eyes opened. They gasped and heaved for breath as they were painfully reborn.

"Time to wake the others,” he ordered. "Find the demons. We need stronger souls than the humans. You humans aren't worth what we are to do.”

They nodded, still in a haze of pain and confusion.

"This won’t last long. Neither of you is quite what I need. I need demons,” he declared. "After you bring me the demons that we can all smell here, throw yourselves off the roof.”

Both of them nodded obediently and went to do as he said. He smiled and turned to the full waiting room he could see just behind the glass doors. People too consumed by their own lives to worry about what had happened at the front desk.

"I always wondered what revenge would feel like.” He licked a spot of blood off his hand. "I like it."

 

 


	5. Cruel (When Angels Darken)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning about the newest type of monsters coming from Purgatory leads Dean to a drastic move to gain inside knowledge of what has happened. As the monsters begin to gather, a threat to Nyx’s life leads to an explosion between Castiel and Meg that will only complicate matters. Thirsty for revenge, Eve sets her new monsters in motion to track down a fascinating prospect: a demon who can create life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This also contains the deleted scene ' Time'

There was a lingering sense of decay in the hospital that unsettled Dean as the hours crawled by. Even though he felt the drugs making him groggy and tired, he just couldn’t get comfortable so he shifted constantly on the bed, struggling to get comfortable. Trying to ignore that growing unease he felt as his body protested lying still for so long.

Dean thumped his pillow hard and settled back down.

He hadn’t wanted to tell Sam about how he actually felt but he suspected his brother was seeing through him. It was easy to admit to being a little scared but now it was more than just that. The idea that he was vulnerable to something so domestic and  _simple_ as a heart attack was terrifying. Demons, monsters, angels? He’d survived them all but now it turned out his body might be his own worst enemy.

Absently rubbing at the IV on the back of his hand, he looked out and saw his brother’s shadow moving through the ward behind the drawn curtain. Sam likely had persuaded the night nurses to let him keep watch, and Dean smiled a little. It meant that maybe he could sleep since Sam would watch over him. Involuntarily his hands fell slack on his stomach and he had to rest his head back down as it seemed to become too heavy to keep upright. The medication dragged him deeper under that blissful haze and he sighed, closing his eyes.

The slow steps of someone walking by his bed made him sleepily look to the side, expecting another nurse coming to check in on him.

“Hello, Dean,” a low voice drawled before chuckling with a low grating sound. A laugh he’d never dreamed of hearing again. Groaning, Dean opened his eyes wider and gasped as he saw a familiar, craggy face staring down at him. 

“Dad?” He stared into John Winchester’s eyes and knew he had to be hallucinating.

“What have you been up to?” John asked in an eerily calm way, and Dean felt as if his father was about to explode on him for doing something wrong. 

“What are you doing here?”

John’s eyes flickered a little. “Can’t a father be worried about his kids? Come down to earth and guard over them like an angel would?”

Dean was aware of the growing itch in his skin and the way his heart started to pound harder than it should. “You’re dead.”

“You nearly were too. If it weren’t for that real angel, Dean, you’d be dead as anything in that forest. Then where would Sammy be? He’d think you’d left him once and for all,” his father said as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I’d never leave Sam alone.”

“I hope not. I’m disappointed in you, Dean. You know better than to leave him behind.”

Dean felt a shocking sting of tears he didn’t expect at his father’s scolding, and the gnawing doubt that only his father had been able to guilt him with. That in the end, he would fail completely. “Go away.”

“The angel saved you again, huh?” John leaned forward a bit. “Where is the angel, Dean? Maybe he should take care of Sam instead.”

Drugged as he was, Dean knew that his father wouldn’t be this calm. Especially not about angels. Like Dean had at first, John would have thought of it as some sort of strange creature that couldn’t be trusted and needed to be killed. His father should have been angry with him but he’d never say something like this. He’d given him one job and that was to stick around to protect Sam as best as he could. He’d  _trusted_ Dean to take care of his little brother.

Eyes struggling to focus, he saw John leaning over him. “Dean, where is the angel? Come on, son, you know I’m just worried.”

Dean flashed back to a time years ago when his father had acted so different than everything he knew about him.

“ _He’d be furious.”_

“ _What?”_

“ _That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one. You’re not my Dad.”_

“You’re not my dad,” Dean repeated in a hoarse whisper and he managed to scrunch his fingers into a fist, aiming weakly at the spectre. The hand that caught his was ice cold and clammy, and it tightened until he was sure his wrist was going to break. 

The eyes went turned a swirling yellow and the mouth twisted into a smirk that was nothing like John Winchester. “What a smart boy you are.”

He shoved Dean back on the bed and straddled him, sitting heavily on his stomach so it was hard for him to breathe, hard for him to move. No matter how Dean struggled and tried to roll free, his father shoved a pillow over his mouth and pushed down hard. Tasting something like sulphur and blood in his mouth, Dean thrashed and grabbed hold of the strong arms holding the pillow over his face. His lungs started begging for air and his heart banged harder and harder in his chest, until that painful clench came back and he knew it was going to happen again.

His heart couldn’t take this and his body felt like it was screaming. Dean opened his mouth to scream into the pillow over his face.

“ _You always were such a disappointment, Dean.”_

His cries were muffled and he heard his father laughing at him but he couldn’t throw him off.

“ _Little Sammy is next.”_

“No!”

The more he fought, the more lightheaded he became as his father held him down and smothered him. At the same time, another pair of hands was grabbing onto Dean’s arms and starting to pull up while his father pushed down his arms. He clung to the other hands, hoping they were going to help him, and prayed that he wasn’t about to die. That this was just a dream and if he tried hard enough he would wake up.

“ **Dean** _ **?”**_

The rough mixture of Azazel’s and John’s  voice kept him desperate to live.  _“You and your friends are going to die, Dean, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”_

“ **Dean** _ **.”**_

“No!”

~

“Dean… Dean!” Sam shook him gently and Dean gasped as he came to, still clutching his brother’s arms and fighting to breathe.

It took him only seconds to focus on Sam’s face and he took in a deep breath.

“Sammy?” 

“Yeah, you okay?”

Dean slumped back and groaned the moment his head hit the pillow. His hands were shaking and he quickly grabbed fistfuls of the blanket to control them. “God, that was a dream.”

“You were yelling up a storm. Must have been some dream.” Sam gave him a crooked smile and nodded at the rolling tray he’d pulled up beside the bed. “I went to get some jello for you. Nurse said you could have it.”

“Not hungry,” Dean muttered. “I thought it was the night shift and you’d be kicked out.”

“Yeah but the male nurse here thinks I’m pretty. I’m not above using my good looks to get in here to look after you,” Sam teased and sat down beside him as Dean tried to shift around on the bed. Even though the nightmare had been so vivid, it was already starting to fade with the nature of dreams. He was exhausted and it was a struggle to really keep his eyes open. Sam checked the monitors and then looked back at Dean’s still pale face. “So how’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve done a few rounds too many.”

“You look like it too.”

“Bitch.” Dean’s half-hearted insult made Sam smile as he picked up the bowl from the tray. Dean glanced around his curtain enclosed bed. “I thought I heard Cas earlier. He hanging around?”

“I called him and told him how you were. He’s keeping an eye on things for us.” Sam spooned a handful of watery jello towards his brother. Dean stared at the blue goop suspiciously the closer it came to his mouth. 

“I don’t want that.”

“Come on, Dean. Here comes the airplane,” Sam tried in a high-pitched voice and his brother’s green eyes shot him a glare for the wise-crack. He shrugged and waved it closer to Dean’s mouth. “Worth a shot.”

“I’m not dumb enough to fall for that, Sam, and I’m not dying.”

“Good thing, I’d have to kick your ass if you were.” When Dean obstinately turned his head the other way, Sam shrugged and popped the spoon into his own mouth. His mouth downturned at the sour flavour and he choked a little as he swallowed the jello down. “That _is_ disgusting.”

“Give me a burger any day,” Dean said wearily and closed his eyes. 

“Well, according to the doctor, those are off the menu for you.” Sam saw his brother’s eyes open again and he grinned at the desperate look that crossed his face. “Welcome to clean and healthy living, Dean.”

“Oh God.” Dean’s head rolled on the pillow with a solid thump. “Just kill me now.”

“Yep. Sucks to be you.” Sam continued to finish off the jello. “Kevin’s at the bunker, eh? He texted me.”

“With Cas?”

Sam shrugged. “And Meg and Nyx.”

“So Cas can come back and give me a jolt and we’re back to normal, huh?” There was a hint of hope in his brother’s voice.

“Dean.” Sam reached out and touched his shoulder. “Cas can’t heal you.”

“What?” Dean looked at him. “But he always could. This… this isn’t a big thing.”

“This is not just stitches and blood, Dean. This is a big thing and he can’t help us. Whatever we did to ourselves, if it is anything as deep as this then it’s not going to be as easy.” Taking a breath, Sam looked at the bowl in his hands and voiced the thought that had been bothering him since Castiel had left the hospital. “I think it’s not only a heart attack but the spell we used. It’s affecting you. So it looks like you have to do things the old fashioned human way. Rest.”

“This sucks.” Dean looked at the heart monitor attached to his finger and wiggled it. “Really sucks.” He glanced over at where Sam was still eating the jello. “Are you goin’ to finish that?” 

 

~~~

 

Something about Meg had changed now that she had recovered that hidden part of her so completely, and Kevin wondered if he was the only one who noticed. It was a small change, since she just as ‘dark’ as before, but there was a feeling of reservation lingered around her. It was as if she had become so used to being hidden that she didn’t want to give it up.

She hid what she was feeling so well. But the slightest tics revealed more than just what the meatsuit let slip by. On the surface, it was in the wary looks she’d watch every movement with, but underneath that there was something even more dangerous than before about her. It made Kevin’s skin crawl.  

He knew she wanted to find him, had heard her storming about upstairs until finally she’d stomped down the stairs. Aware of Meg as she came into the main room and headed for the table, Kevin nervously poured a double shot of scotch and quickly took his seat. The closer she came, the more he was glad he was sitting; the table hid his shaking knees under the table.

When he really looked at her, in a way he never explained to anyone else, he could see the faint signs of a demon now. It had been so well hidden by Castiel before that to see it again was startling. Kevin cleared his throat and managed a tense grin.

“So you’re full-on demon again?” he asked and Meg stopped at the head of the table.

“Never stopped being that, did I?”

“You know what I mean. You’re back to being Meg.”

“Sort of.”

Kevin blinked. “Sort of?”

“Not all is right in Megsville, Kevin. Big surprise.” She shook her head. “So you knew all that time, of course.”

“Mom and I said we’d protect you.” He kept his voice hard, determined to hide the grief, and he noticed how her eyes darted all over his face as if seeing it anyway. 

“I am sorry about her, Kev,” she said and she pulled up a chair to sit across from him.  “She was a friend to me and demons don’t get a lot of those.”

“Don’t. Meg, just don’t. I don’t want to think about it.” He chortled a little; he was trying to laugh but couldn’t find the energy. “I mean, I had once dreamt about losing her years ago. I guess, because of you, I had three more years of her than I would have had before.” Something hardened in his face. “Though, because of you all, I lost her too.”

“Azazel was always pretty brutal,” Meg muttered and saw his head tip back abruptly. They stared at each other and she realized, now with her memory back in order, that there was little about this young man that resembled the boy she’d met years ago. 

“Azazel? Is that who did it?”

“Don’t look at me for answers, kid. I only heard rumours,” she admitted carefully. She wasn’t sure how much the prophet knew. Sam hadn’t been too clear on what had happened to Kevin over the years, and even though he had visited his mother she hadn’t known that much about him. Hadn’t really cared, she admitted. He’d been the vagabond son of her landlady who her daughter just happened to adore.  

But of all of them, Meg surprisingly sympathized with Kevin. She knew what it felt like to be stuck in the middle of something like this and be lost. What it felt like to be chained to something you couldn’t control. There was no way he was unchanged by it all.

“I should have had a vision or something about that, right? But I didn’t. Lot of good being a prophet does for me.” He seemed to shrug it off and eyed his glass. “I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?”

As he walked to the liquor cabinet, Meg watched him down the rest of his first glass and grab two more. Arching an eyebrow, she eyed his gaunt body sway just a little. He was so small compared to Sam that she would have thought he’d be at least tipsy, but the double he’d poured himself didn’t seem to have any real effect. Kevin had the haggard and bleary look of someone who drank routinely and Meg noticed how much that aged him.

“Castiel said you knew something about me and Nyx,” Meg said when he turned back around with a bottle in his hand.

“Did he?” Setting a tumbler before her, he poured out nearly half a glass before he shrugged and poured his own. “I see a lot of things.” Kevin swirled his own newly poured drink and sat down again with a loud thump. Rolling back in the chair, he put his legs up on that table and tried to look casual. “How’s Nyx?”

“Scared and confused.”

“Can’t blame her,” he said before sipping at his drink. Meg saw his eyes squint a little at the strength of the liquor but admirably he didn’t really flinch. “Kid finds out mom is a demon and Cas probably let her know he’s her dad, right?” At her nod, he grimaced. “There’s better ways for kids to find out who their parents are.”

Glaring at the table, he huffed and took another drink. “A lot better ways.”

“So what went through prophet vision?” the demon asked and Kevin shrugged. 

“Wasn’t important.” 

The sound of the glass shattering made him look up to see her staring at him, her eyes black and nearly hypnotic. The ruined glass was in pieces with amber liquid dripping on the antique table, but Kevin couldn’t look away from her. Meg’s eyes went back to normal but there was no mistaking the warning she was giving him. “You even think about lying to me, I’ll rip your spine out.”

He swallowed. “I…”

“Don’t try what you try on the Winchesters or Castiel either. I’m a demon; our first lessons are how to lie. What are you seeing?” She leaned across the table. “Now.”

Kevin couldn’t keep a slight tremour out of his voice. “Nyx. I…I had dreams about her, about the hellhounds.”

The demon’s hands clenched into fists on the wood. “You knew it would happen and you still put my daughter in danger?”

“She wouldn’t have been harmed!” he insisted. “But it had to play out like that! Everything had to go as I saw it!”

“You saw everything.”

“I knew where I had to be because Castiel was going to be there. I knew I had to be there to witness.”

“Witness?” Meg’s brow furrowed deep in confusion. He wasn’t making any sense to her and she wondered if Kevin even understood himself.

“Every major moment of Nyx’s life has to be witnessed. The hellhounds were a turning point. They represent danger. I just don’t think God realized you’d be there to kill them. In the vision—” His eyes rolled back in his head as he thought about it, voice taking on an almost droning monotone and he missed the way her face turned mask-like and cold “—what I saw was Nyx. The visions were so clear what has to happen. Maybe when all of her blocks and walls start to fall, we can finally see what she really is. When we finally figure it out, I think our world might change because of her.”

“Oh?” Meg stood up. “And what is that?”

“I don’t know, Meg, I only get glimpses and I can’t even tell you what that means to me because I just don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “But God spoke to me. It is because of God I have to do what I have to do. I just never wanted Nyx harmed. Or you.”

The demon stared down at him and he felt real fear. Castiel was restrained by angelic law to never hurt him, the Winchesters had their own codes to live by but Meg… Meg was dangerous. If she saw a threat she would kill him without another thought. It didn’t matter that they had been able to get along in the past or even if she liked him. Meg lived on a different set of rules and if she was fully revived she wouldn’t forget that.

“If anything happens to my daughter, and you are responsible, I’ll kill you.”

“I know.” He stared back into her eyes bravely and watched her nod.

“Good. Long as we’re clear.” She braced on the table and forced him to hold her stare. “But right now, I’m not sure I trust anyone.”

She turned and left him and Kevin leaned back once she was gone, unable to stop himself from heaving a sigh of relief. The sensation that he had just escaped with his life wasn’t unfamiliar. It happened often enough in the past few years.

But just as soon as he closed his eyes, he heard the voices whispering to him. The sort of celestial murmuring that had begun weeks ago when he’d been hitchhiking. All telling him how best to serve God’s will. How he could make them all see if he just obeyed, how he could help them all. 

He had never forgotten how he had met God and Death, how it had felt to be in their presence, and it was why he stayed so close to Nyx now when he had the opportunity. Something about her made him feel like he was close to something powerful and he hoped it would give him some direction. He knew he had to wait in the bunker for the next course of visions to come true.

Kevin had been fighting so hard against the visions, that it was a relief now to whisper  _yes_ and let new purpose course into him with each breath he took.

~~

Meg wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

The books in the archives revealed nothing useful to what she wanted to know. No cornerstones of revelation or some demonic prophecy that screamed of what could be. No ancient tome written by humans or prophets told her any great secret that she didn’t already know. That was the problem with being a demon her age: nothing could surprise her.  She wanted to find some sort of answer and it looked like today was not her day.

As meticulously as the Winchester’s library was kept, in alphabetical order and subject, after half a day of searching she was ready to burn the entire bunker down out of frustration. Judging by the leftover odours of charred paper and burnt wood, Meg thought to herself, that may have happened already. Both Sam and Castiel had hinted, briefly, that something had happened when the demons had penetrated the otherwise warded bunker because of a betrayal. She didn’t have all the details on that and hadn’t cared either.

The library was useless to her. 

Finding out they still had the demon holding cell, kept in almost identical condition to when she had been there, hadn’t made staying in the bunker much easier.

Thankfully it wasn’t hard to avoid that place and the memories it held within its ward-painted walls.

If only Nyx hated it here but the little girl seemed to enjoy the vast halls of the bunker and the many ways she could find something to do. The only reason why Meg hadn’t lost her yet was because she found the darker corners scary and childishly Nyx was afraid of being too far from Meg or Kevin. It didn’t stop her from finding all the places she could to try to jump out at either of them.

Meg had heard Kevin yelp a few times when Nyx had startled him and had the suspicion that it wasn’t just pretend either.

Besides Nyx, Meg wasn’t sure that leaving was an option. She didn’t have any money left — she figured that Castiel had lifted that from her —,  the Winchesters had locked their weapons up, Sam had the Impala, and she just knew….

The demon groaned and rubbed at the back of her neck. There was something that nagged at her, made her feel too weary to run and hide. The novelty of was dead for her. Knowing Crowley, he’d have every hellhound and demon out there looking for her and Nyx and the risk was too high.

Meg had never expected to actually be protective over a child. 

Sinking her teeth into her lip sharply, she checked the scrawls Sam had written in his journal from three years ago. He hadn’t locked his notes up as tight as the more delicate editions and, like any demon, Meg knew that knowledge was a good enough weapon. She grabbed a book he had referenced from a high shelf and began to flip through it while she walked down the hall to the table. A strange little codex on demons, Meg thought, but judging by the blood stains on its pages someone had went to a lot of effort to retrieve the book from its original owner.

The paper slit across her thumb when she turned the page and she sucked at the tiny wound, tasting sulphur and smoke from her blood. A few drops fell on the page and Meg read quickly the words the blood smeared on. Demons and angels, an entire chapter on someone’s thoughts and despite herself Meg was actually interested in what some old Man of Letters thought of her kind. As she continued to read she realized that the original author was one of those unfortunate few who bordered on the insane and the prophetic. Which meant this book might actually tell her something she needed.

The writer bordered on rambling and the only thing that made real sense to her were the Biblical quotes. Meg herself had had a hand in influencing a few later editions of the Bible when she was travelling with Azazel, just to see what the humans would do. The results had been, to her, hilarious.

Considering what she was reading, Meg thought that maybe this writer took too much of it into theory and belief.

Skimming over the paragraphs about how demons were likely products of nephilim or how the angels had descended at one time for the only purpose of siring supernatural children to fight demons, she turned a page and began to mutter aloud when the title caught her interest. Quotations on nephilim were scrawled around the central points and always as a foot note was there some theory that the writer had.

“… _when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown. The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. …_

Meg wrinkled her nose. Hell, she hated the Bible’s pretentious crap sometimes. Rolling her eyes, she sighed and focussed on the writer’s notes scribbled in the margins.

“ _What if it is possible that these creatures existed? That our greatest warriors have been nephilim or some other abomination? The only answers would lie with the angels but they are not allowed to walk the Earth.”_

“Boy, buddy, do you have it wrong,” Meg muttered.

“ _I can only picture these creatures as monsters. Horrible and hideous creations because...”_

Without real conscious thought, Meg looked up to see Nyx racing through the archives. She was carrying a book almost as large as herself and she kept tripping over her own feet and bumping into the shelves. Kevin was following behind her, begging her to give him back his book, and the loud giggles actually made Meg smile a little. 

“Oh, yeah sure,” she said. “Really monstrous. It shows.”

Though, if she had to be a little honest, Nyx wasn’t a nephilim in the way humans would expect. Despite the meatsuits that had conceived her, underneath her body and straight to her core, Nyx was  _different_ . As the sounds faded when Nyx and Kevin ran to the common room, Meg sighed and continued to read as she made her way to the end of the long table. A large stack of books on half-blood creatures and demons were starting to teeter over. Cocking her hip to the side, she leaned on the table and as she read she began to curl a strand of hair around her finger.

“Why are you reading books on nephilim?” Castiel’s voice made her jump, his sudden appearance across from her causing a brief rush of power between them when she reacted. She even raised her hand and turned a little, old instincts waking up to possible danger, but all he did was look up from the books he’d been glancing over to stare at her. The innocent interest in his expression made her more suspicious.

“Don’t have much else I can do.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head as he scanned the titles. “None of these would be very accurate. They are all speculation. From what I have learned, some humans can see one thing look at another and assume that there must be something deeper in that connection.”

Meg clicked her tongue and set her book down. “That’s humans for you.”

“I suppose you would know. You were one for longer than I ever was. Naturally too.”

The demon could have sworn he was teasing her because there was a slight lift to the corner of his lips. Realizing that rocked her enough off-balance that she just stared across at him. The Castiel she knew with frightening intimacy wouldn’t try that when he knew they were still on shaky ground. 

_Would he?_

“How could I forget that?” she pointed out. “I’m trying to understand about Nyx. See if there’s something I can even get a hint on. But it just seems like your Pops wasn’t fond of the Nephilim idea.”

“The Bible is subjective and you know that.” Castiel shrugged and checked the cover of what he was reading. “The time of Nephilim was well past _His_ interest in the world. It was likelier that the Archangels planted those ideas in humans’ minds.”

“Angel-human babies would be up there in their problems. Still, Nyx’s not a normal one anyway so I guess these books are useless, huh?” Meg rubbed at the back of her neck in frustration. Castiel flipped through a few pages and shrugged.

“Very.” His eyes slid from the pages to her face and he seemed to be looking for something. “Has she ever shown signs of what she is? What she can do? Like how she was when you were carrying her?”

“Not really. She’s quiet.”

“Mm.”

“Stop saying ‘mm’ as if you have nothing better to say,” she snapped irritably. “I’m not liking staying here, waiting on the edge for something to happen and I bet you know it. It’s going to drive me crazy.” She thought about that. “Crazier.”

“What makes you think you are already crazy?” He was staring at the book again, mouthing the Latin words and shaking his head. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean you are crazy,” Castiel said without looking up. “If anything, it gives me some hope that you and I can come to terms.”

“Oh yeah? Think I’ll just fly into your arms and beg you to fuck me up against a wall so we can pretend we can still get along? Even if it just for sex?” 

She meant it as a joke but he blinked at her coarseness. “No. I would never expect that. It simply gives me some hope that we can protect Nyx together.”

He put the book back to the top of the stack and his fingers brushed a piece of construction paper sticking out from one of the books. Carefully, he eased the battered book out and flipped it open to see what it was. One of Nyx’s drawings, more of a scribble than anything, that Meg had left to mark her place was scrunched up in between the pages. Meg watched his face as he looked at the scribbly clouds and the yellow dot bees, and noticed the faintest lift to the corner of his mouth. 

“She likes to draw.”

“Keeps her quiet. I think it is how she remembers things sometimes.” Meg looked down and missed how Castiel ran his fingers over the page.

“Her imagination is remarkable, Meg. Angels aren’t taught to be creative. We are soldiers and it would have been discouraged.”

Meg shrugged. “Not like demons are expected to be artsy either, you know, except if it is for doing Hell’s work. Most creative I ever got was the best way to break every bone in a human in ten seconds or less. Always wondered if I could break my own record and there have been humans around lately.”

His head lifted abruptly and she looked at him, unable to help the smirk from lighting up her features. He held her gaze for a moment and then looked back down. “Does Nyx read?”

“A little. She’s still pretty young.”

“Write?”

“Draws. She’s a whiz at Parcheesi too,” Meg said to try to prickle him but Castiel was absorbing it all as if it was the most serious conversation he had had in a long time.

“Does she…”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she cleared her throat. “Why the interest?”

“She’s mine as well. I’d like to know everything about her.” He folded the paper up and reached into his coat pocket. Meg heard the jingle of something in there but instead of anything that could make such a noise he pulled out a small journal.  He pressed the scrap of paper between the threaded pages and she frowned in confusion.

“Since when do you keep a diary or is this a ‘Castiel’s bucket list’ thing?”

“I did understand that reference.” He kept his attention on the book and Meg rolled her eyes.

“I’m shocked.”

“I started using this a few years ago. It helped me.” He tucked the book back in his coat before he looked at her. “I think it is best I let Nyx adjust to the idea of who I am.”

Meg shrugged. “Kid didn’t have a dad for three years, Castiel. If you want me to give you answers, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You might not have all the time in the world.”

“You’re still here,” he pointed out. “You’ve not tried to run again. I think I can hope that I will have time. With her and with you.”

Meg fidgeted at the way he stared at her across the table and turned away. “Don’t think too hard on that. I don’t have anywhere else to be and Nyx likes it here. That’s it.”

When she looked up, he was in front of her again and this time a few steps closer than she liked. He wore the same look she knew from three years ago, the sort of calm stare when he wanted to know something and expected her to answer him. She recognized it in the crease of his forehead and the narrowing of his gaze, in the way he leaned in a little too close and tried to make it seem like he didn’t know he was doing it. 

 “How is _your_ memory?” Castiel asked.

“Foggy on the details for some things.” Pushing her hair over a shoulder, she looked away. “What about yours?”

“I have an eidetic memory.” He reached out and touched her neck while he brushed a bit of archive dust from her skin. Meg’s body went a little rigid under the contact as the back of his fingers brushed her skin and then went to her shoulder. She glanced down at his hand but he kept his hand where it was. “But some things still feel like the first time.”

His thumb pushed down a little on the top of her shoulder and she looked back up at him. 

“We can go right back to the beginning then. Start over? You want to go stand in the middle of a fire, tell me not to trust an angel and then throw me down in the flames?” Her eyes glinted dangerously and she stepped forward. “We can see how it all plays out again now that I know the ending.”

He didn’t back down from her attempted sarcasm. “There were other things about that moment that may be pleasant to re-enact.”

The slow and silky way he said it made her blink a few times, sure she had heard him wrong, and she studied him warily. “Are you… are you flirting with me?” she asked, for once unsure of herself as he studied her in return. The memory of that moment years ago was sharp and clear: of the glow of the Holy Fire, of the hot press of him against her as he held her and his mouth came seductively close to hers. The longer she looked into his eyes, the more obvious it became that he was remembering it as well.

Suddenly, Castiel backed up and shrugged. “Anything is possible.”

Meg watched him walk away towards the front of the bunker as she leaned back on the table for support. He didn’t glance back and she was disturbingly aware of his absence. It made her uneasy as she realized that there might be more about Castiel that had changed than she had first thought.

~~

Castiel had the urge to go immediately to the Winchesters after his brief talk with Meg, needing to find comfort in their friendship while making certain Dean and Sam were both fine. That Dean was recovering and that he wasn’t about to die from his bad heart.

There was just something in him that was holding him back now. In a way, he felt torn between his duties. He wanted to watch over the Winchesters but he also wanted answers and wanted to know if what he felt was unusual. For an angel like his brothers and sisters maybe it was, but he had never been a normal angel; he knew that now after all these years. He wanted to talk to someone who had also had to try to recover what he had lost and someone who knew him with more intimacy than any human or demon could ever imagine.

As his form shifted and slipped through the barriers, Castiel felt the familiar warmth and grace of Heaven bathe over him in welcome. But though the brightness was familiar, he had never come here before to this area of Heaven. It belonged to someone who he knew would not want to see him and had all reason to reject him. There had never been a place for him here and it had been clear years ago he might never be welcome. Even when the souls of Heaven had fought, he hadn’t sought him out to thank him. He had left him alone.

But now he wanted to — needed to — try to find a way to bring the world to rights and Jimmy Novak was a way for him to try to understand.

The pristine white paint and the wrap-around veranda was reminiscent of the Pontiac house. This quiet home on the suburban street was identical to the one he could remember leaving that night long ago when he had taken the vessel. He could even smell the fresh paint and flowers that had lingered that day and Castiel could swear he could feel the warm comfort of this place .

He hadn’t cared at the time but now he realized why Jimmy had loved it so much. It was a place that his vessel had loved, where he had loved and been loved, and he felt safe there with his family.

Standing on the first porch step, Castiel watched the front door open and his mirror double stepped out in the warm glow of the porch-light. Jimmy was laughing and holding a young girl in his arms while she clung to his neck. The sight made the angel stop where he was and watch the laughter and love between them with a mixture of curiosity and grief.

Jimmy looked not a day older than the day Castiel had taken him years ago with promises and a mission, before they had been joined together in a wash of brilliant light. Gone was the fanatical gleam in his eyes and his voice that had first been there when Castiel had spoken to him. There was no more of the exhausted frustration Jimmy had shown when he had realized just what he had committed to, or the whimpering pleas for the sake of saving his family.

Jimmy was carrying his Heaven’s version of Claire around as she pointed at the flowers of the garden, the fireflies, and the wind chimes her mother had left out. He looked so happy that Castiel took a step back, ready to fly off to avoid what he had been about to do. Turning about, he tried to ignore Claire’s laughter as he readied himself to go before he was seen. 

“Castiel.” The voice, higher than his, called out. Though Jimmy was far less powerful, just that call held the angel still for a few moments before Castiel turned. Across the front yard their eyes met and slowly the smile on Jimmy’s lips left as he put his daughter down. “Go back and see your mom, Claire. I’ll be right in.”

Castiel knew, as any angel would, that Jimmy Novak constantly relived the time he had pretended to be sick and stayed home with his family; it had been something he had just he wanted to do and he had loved that memory. It had been the happiest day for him in his entire life. No cares, no responsibility. Just him, his daughter and wife, a large house of warmth and laughter. He lived the day over and over again, constantly aware that he was dead and it was just his dearest wish granted, and he was content with that. Even when he had gone to War within Heaven, Jimmy had come back to this time, this place. 

Except seeing Castiel standing there clearly made him forget his happiness judging by the frown.

“Castiel,” Jimmy repeated after the door closed behind Claire.

“Hello, Jimmy.” Castiel tucked the overcoat close around his chest to occupy himself, aware of the way his double looked him over.

“You went back to the coat. I thought you’d change it up after being human.” 

The absurd statement made Castiel look down at himself. “It fits what I am, I think.”

“Just a coat, Castiel. I was never fond of it.” Jimmy leaned back against the support post. “What do you want?”

He debated on lying, saying it was mere curiosity about how the human soul had been. But Jimmy had been with him for a long time before his release. He would know, better than anyone, when Castiel lied.

“I came to you because I thought…”

“That I would help you somehow?” Jimmy’s eyes were cold ice. “That’s a lot to ask. You took my body. It is only because of God that I was released in the first place from you.”

“I’m sorry. When we first made our agreement, it was to just be until it was over.” Castiel bowed his head. 

“When will you learn that it will never be over?” Jimmy leaned back on the railing. “I stopped caring when I left my body, Castiel. I heard all the rumours, when the angels passed through before, but I am happy here for the first time in years.”

“I understand your sacrifice now,” Castiel said and the soul’s eyes softened a little.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He glanced over his shoulder at his family in the window. “ I just never really expected you to take it so far to have a daughter yourself.” The human laughed and he actually sounded amused. “The irony was just that you don’t have the excuse of being human at the time. An angel… an angel went out and felt something other than obedience. Never thought you had it in you.”

The angel sighed. “Neither did I.”

“So why come to me?” Jimmy was staring at him again. “I can’t help you.”

“I didn’t come for help.” He glanced over Jimmy’s shoulder at the illusion Heaven was playing.

Eyes just as blue as Castiel’s sparked knowingly. “You wanted to see how I saw my family. How I felt about leaving them. What’d you learn?”

Castiel looked at the vessel he wore and smiled a little. “That we aren’t as different as we first seemed.”

The soul looked him over closely.

Jimmy had experienced everything alongside Castiel; from the day Castiel had taken his body and knew the sensation of being reduced to such a small physical form, Jimmy had been there. When he had first met Dean, Sam, Bobby and the others, even when he first met Meg, Jimmy had watched quietly, a quiet participant bound to a fiery comet of Grace and power. He had felt the way the angel’s emotions had been so conflicted over all of them. He had felt Castiel’s love and fear and those two emotions had always been what confused the celestial being the most.

His first meeting with Meg had been the most troubling, even compared to meeting Sam Winchester or Lucifer. Jimmy knew, the way only a soul chained to such an angel ever could, that Meg had thrown Castiel off balance from that first meeting and it had never stopped. Hate had turned to attraction; there was always such a fine line between those emotions and Castiel had plunged over it when he saw something worth loving.

It wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last time something like that had happened.

“No. We’re not. We were willing to fight and sacrifice for what we loved,” Jimmy finally admitted. Tugging on the hem of his shirt, he looked over his shoulder at where he could see Claire and Amelia in the living room. “I don’t regret what I did. I regret not saying a goodbye to them, but I don’t doubt they knew I loved them enough to let the angels use me. Let you use me.”

When he turned around, Castiel was gone and Jimmy smiled wryly as he stared at the spot the angel had left. “Oh, Castiel, I don’t think you ever once expected things to turn out so differently.”

He leaned back and took a look around his Heaven with a contented smile. Years ago, he had fought being pulled away from his family, from his rightful place in the world; fought it with everything in him when he had learned what Castiel was capable of. But after the War of Souls in Heaven… now he was content. It didn’t matter that his every move was watched by angels or that this wasn’t real. He was content to wait until his family joined him as inevitably they would.

~~

It was several days before Dean’s medication was eased a little and he was more capable of moving around. It gave Sam enough time to ask Castiel to take him back to the bunker to get the Impala and a change of clothes for his brother for when he was released. The angel’s need for a distraction had been obvious and Sam hadn’t questioned it anymore than Castiel asked questions about Dean. It seemed like between them the less said the better.

Not that Sam knew much about Dean’s condition. The doctors had given Sam a hazy but over-simplified version of what was wrong, even said that they needed to run more tests, but he knew whatever was in their medical texts wouldn’t explain a damn thing. He could feel the ache and he could feel how his own body temperature had risen a little. The truth was that the cure for Dean was going to take someone with much more power and knowledge to figure out. The soul spell was starting to finally die and they’d spent years fighting their enemies instead of figuring out how to fix the damage that the trials had done to Sam and, inevitably, Dean.

Now that he had time – _too much time_ — Sam spent the hours in the waiting room reading what books he had brought with him and sleeping in the plastic chairs, always ready in case he was needed. When the nurses let him into the room to watch over Dean, he sat in an uncomfortably lumpy chair and read a dry and dusty tome. He was scanning through the last pages when he noticed Dean starting to shit around after a nap.

“Wakey wakey, sunshine,” Sam said with a grin, licking his thumb and turning the last page.

“Sam?” Dean swung his legs to the side and sat on the side of the bed, dizzily focussing on the floor. At the nauseous look on his face, Sam set his book to the side and grabbed his arm to keep him steady.

“You need something?”

“Mind—” Dean stopped himself, shook his head, and refocused on the tiles again as he cleared his throat. “Mind getting me something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bewildered a bit by the quiet way Dean had asked, Sam pushed up and cleared his throat. “Want a nurse?”

“Nah. My throat’s just dry, I don’t want to bother them.”

Dean waited until Sam was gone before he looked directly at the corner of the room. “Come on out, Cas.”

The angel materialized instantly and at Dean’s steady stare he took the seat Sam had jus left. The hunter turned around and propped himself up on the pillows to look at him. He hadn’t really seen Castiel since coming into the hospital, only knew through Sam that the angel was trying to figure things out for them. That he was trying to protect them and keeping to himself.

Avoiding his own problems, if Dean knew the angel as well as he did.

“You knew I was there,” Castiel said for an opener when Dean said nothing.

“I guessed. You were always bad for hiding out on us.” Dean shut his eyes and moved his legs around slowly on the bed so he was lying a little reclined.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still like I’ve been run over, thanks. Least I’m not hooked up to machines anymore.” He winced and rubbed at the small of his back as his muscles spasmed. All this time lounging around was killing him, Dean thought grumpily. “Matter of time before they figure out the insurance isn’t legit. Might as well enjoy it, I guess. I get sponge baths, meals in bed, and all that.”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m sor…”

“No. Don’t bother.” Dean waved a hand. “This isn’t your fault, Cas. It was mine. Just wish you could you know, heal me still but I’m getting over that a bit.”

Still Castiel could tell by the bitterness in his voice that Dean was finding it hard to come to terms with it though.

“You know it was the spell?”

“Yeah, it had to give out sometime. Just means we get off our asses to look for a cure again,” he said and he caught the angel’s curious look. “What?”

“You are remarkably calm over this.” Castiel looked at his hands as if to find answers in his own worn palms. 

“Not much else I can do. Doctor says I’m not to get worked up about too much.” He grinned. “How’s my Zen impression going?”

“To be honest, it is a little frightening.” Castiel kept his eyes on his hands even when Dean cleared his throat.

“The bunker is tense, I bet.” With a shrug, he pushed up so he was sitting more upright. 

“I’ve been giving Meg her space, Dean, if that is what you mean. It appears to be working. She’s no longer looking as ready to stab me if we happen to be in the same room.” 

“How’s the kid?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve just been watching her. She’s three years old but she’s very,” Castiel suddenly had a wistful grin, “remarkable.”

“Oh boy. You got it bad.” Dean rolled his eyes affectionately. “Any signs of angel-baby powers showing up?”

“Nothing. I can feel that there is something different about her but nothing truly exceptional. Which makes it more frustrating,” Castiel said, slapping his hands on the arms of the chair before he stood up. Dean watched him pace back and forth in front of the hospital bed. “We spent months protecting her and Meg, and we nearly all died from it. We lost and we fought so hard. I wasted three years because of Death’s warning and we both suffered the consequences from the tablets being in the wrong hands.”

He tugged on his coat tighter around his chest. “Now there is Nyx. I think after everything that happened that I expected to know something more about her and her purpose in this life.”

“Every dad thinks his kid is special,” Dean said and he eyed the heart monitor and thought of his nightmare about John. It still sent cold shivers down his spine. “Cas, that little girl is something different. We all can tell. Maybe it will show up soon, maybe it won’t. Right now she just needs protecting and you’re the best bet.”

“I can’t even protect you and Sam the way I used to,” the angel muttered and Dean noticed how agitated he was as he paced. Castiel was usually better, especially recently, at hiding his emotions.

“Or Meg, right?” Dean smirked a little at the angel’s annoyed look over his shoulder. “Look, a few years ago, sure, you would have had me fooled. Maybe even thinking you were doing it because of guilt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were in love with her back then. We’re not idiots, Cas. Like it or not, you still got it bad. It’s kind of cute. In that weird, absolutely fucked up way.” Dean plucked at the flannel on his legs. “I just gotta ask though. Was it all because of Nyx that made you stay near her?”

The angel had his back to him. “No.”

“Then look at it this way, Cas. You have Meg alone in a bunker, she’s not going anywhere. So play nice with her, and for God’s sake actually seem like you are sorry for what you did.”

“I am!”

“You’re not showing it well. You probably got all ‘I know better than you’, like when you tried it on us, remember? I get why you did it. God, if it could have helped Sam, maybe I would have had you do it to him, but it turns out you can’t just bury things anymore.” Dean rolled his shoulders a bit and put his hands on the bed as he pushed up. He swayed a little unsteadily. “But we got a lot bigger problems on our hands than Meg and Nyx now.” 

“The monsters,” Castiel stated but he made no move to help Dean stand.

“Yeah. Whatever came out of Purgatory is bad news and we need to be ready for it,” he said and he looked out the window at the parking lot. “Head back to the bunker and let me know if something comes up. See if Kevin has seen anything or if there’s been anything on the radar for monster activity.”

“It has been quiet so far.” Castiel looked out the window with him at the people coming in and out of the hospital for the night shift. Dean stared at him until he finally looked back.

“It’s not gonna last. I’m getting moved to the ward in an hour but I’ll make sure Sammy can get me out of here soon. If we need anything, we’ll call.”

Sensing his dismissal, Castiel nodded and disappeared in a flutter. Dean stared at the empty space he’d left for a moment before he looked out at the window again. The hospital was large enough that he should have felt safe but instead it felt like a giant trap now without Sam or Castiel in the room with him.

Not sure why he felt such foreboding, he sank down in Sam’s chair and watched the parking lot. Maybe he could come up with some sort of plan. He had more than enough time on his hands now to think, Dean realized as he rubbed absently at his chest.

~~

As Dean had ordered, Castiel went back to the bunker but didn’t go to the archives to find Kevin. Instead, he appeared in the spare room that was now Nyx’s, and took precious minutes to stare down at her as she slept. After just a few days, he felt like he knew her habits now. She might be a little afraid of the dark but once she was asleep it was hard to wake her back up. Curled up in the middle, she looked so tiny in the old bed. He sat down, brushed her hair out of her face, and was relieved that she could sleep so easily when he knew Meg no longer slept.

Waiting for Sam’s call had been like standing on the edge of some terrible precipice. Even though Sam had kept him in the know, Castiel still felt helpless. Not knowing what to do, not knowing what good he could do.

He had regained his Grace, against what he knew perhaps he should do, because he could do so much good as angel if only given the chance. It hadn’t just been because he wanted to do good; it had been because he had been hoping that maybe someday he could find a way back to the people he loved. Now he didn't know where his hopes had lead him.

Nyx rolled a little on the bed and sighed in her sleep. Seeing how bundled up she was, Castiel gave a small half-smile and wondered a little at it. It was as if she was protecting herself from something. Reaching out again, he smoothed his fingers down her cheek and checked her for any nightmares. She should have been burning hot with how many of the blankets were on her but her skin felt cool to the touch. He let his thumb tuck her hair back behind her ear as he studied her face.

Castiel knew what Jimmy had felt when he had found Claire again.

He hadn’t been lying to him. They were similar in so many ways now; maybe that was why he had stayed with his vessel for so long, even after Jimmy had been all but cast out. Tracing the edges of Nyx's determined little chin, he felt as if maybe he understood Jimmy's reasons better than ever.

A small bit of purple caught his eye as he pulled his hand away from Nyx’s face. Crooking his head on the side, he noticed the stuffed unicorn on the floor and picked it up, dusted it off and then tucked it beneath the blankets with her. Her small hand automatically wrapped around its neck, brushing his hand and clenching, for a moment, on his fingers. Castiel held his breath, waiting for her to wake up, but she let him go and simply nestled down a bit more. As he fixed the blankets so they were snug around her, he saw the smile she had even in her sleep.

“I can protect you,” he whispered as he touched his Grace over her. Again, the faint crackle of power under her skin but nothing like what it had been long before. But instead of worrying him, it only helped Castiel to believe that she needed him. Stretching his hand out, he raised the lighting just a little to relieve the darkness of the room before he left her to sleep.

When it came close to midnight, he always knew to find Kevin or Meg in the common room. With not much else to do, they had settled into a boring routine where they managed to avoid each other for most of the day. This was one of the first days with Castiel deliberately seeking out Meg on his own. The prophet was snoring away in an armchair, a book on his chest, while Meg was sitting on the worn old couch, pretending interest in the magazine she was reading. Giving Kevin a quick look to be sure he was asleep, Castiel took a seat beside the demon and waited.

“How’s brothers dumber?” Meg asked finally without looking up from her magazine.

“Dean will be back shortly.” Castiel nervously looked at her when she didn’t say anything else. He still wasn’t sure if she was feigning interest again or was interested. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked at the magazine as if it had spoken to her before she looked at him. He could see her confusion and wariness in the way her eyes seemed to dart over his face.

“I know you hate being confined.”

“Where else am I going to go though, right?” she said with a shrug. “Nyx seems happy here, for whatever reason. Least here she can sleep and I don’t have to worry about which motel to sneak into.”

Castiel hummed an agreement and noticed that even though she was flipping through the magazine, she wasn’t actually reading it. “If you were wanting to leave for a few hours, I can watch over her.”

The offer was tentative and he saw the suspicion in her eyes. “Why?”

Castiel nearly blurted out, “Because she’s  _my_ daughter.” With Dean’s words still fresh in his mind, he stopped himself in time to simply whisper, “It was just an idea.”

“Not a bad one.” His head jerked up to see her shrugging. He hadn’t expected that. “The monster’s going to need to get out soon. She’s three. If I know one thing about kids, it’s that they get stir crazy easy.” Meg frowned and looked at the stairwell. “Though Nyx has never been like that.”

“There’s a park close by,” he offered. “If it is safe in the daylight, you could take her there. Does she play with other children?”

Meg frowned. “I… I don’t know.” When she caught his puzzled look, she shrugged. “My memory is a little hazy still, kind of blending things together. Not sure I want to go play ‘Mommy’ with the humans. I’m likelier to kill a few of the stupid ones with the screaming kids.”

Castiel smiled at her. “I can imagine.”

He noticed the way she looked at him when he smiled at her. But the moment broke when they both heard a thump coming from down the hall. It made him go to stand, protectively wanting to check on Nyx. “What was that?”

Meg whacked him on the chest to sit back down. “What’s today?”

“It’s the middle of the week, I think.”

“But she probably thinks it is Thursday. Off schedule.” Her gaze swung immediately to the hallway.

“What?”

“Just wait for it. It’ll happen.” She turned back to her magazine. “Hell help me if she ever really figures out the days of the week.”

The lighter mood from before was broken, reduced back to that awkward silence he was used to from her. Castiel sat beside her, his hands tightly clasped to keep from fidgeting, until he couldn’t stand it. He turned around on the couch and his knee nudged hers. 

“Meg, what can I do?”

He expected her to deflect, pretend that she didn’t know what he meant, but Meg looked up at him. Her dark eyes fixed on him as if trying to see something. “I don’t know, Castiel.”

There was a rise in tension again, although it wasn’t unpleasant this time. Now it felt like something might shift, even just a little, and change between them. She looked away from him and he reached out, brushing his fingers over her wrist. Her skin felt cool under his touch and he looked down to watch the way her fingers twitched a little when he rested his hand on hers. 

“Meg, I—”

“Stars stars stars stars stars!” Nyx’s voice sang out suddenly and Meg jerked her hand away from him before she faced the tiny body launching at her lap. Kevin bolted awake at the same time, startled by the shouting.

“Kid, what did I say about late nights?” Meg demanded but Nyx grinned at her. She was oddly dressed in her wool hat and an oversized plaid shirt Sam had given Meg for her over her bottoms, the clothes a mishmash of colours that meant she’d been trying to dress herself again. Castiel watched the way she clung to Meg’s leg and tugged on her shirt to get her attention. Almost shyly she quickly glanced at him but then back at Meg again.

“Stars.”

“It’s not Thursday, Nyx.”

“Stars!”

“Ugh.” Meg’s disgust was affectionate and she stood up, stretching and groaning as muscle and bone popped.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel said as he noticed how Nyx hopped around, clearly wanting something from her mother. When he glanced at Meg, he saw the way her shirt rose as she stretched, exposing a strip of soft skin, and he immediately looked away. The little girl’s excitement was contagious if not very confusing.

“Stars!” 

Her odd mantra continued and he glanced up at Meg for an answer. The demon was grabbing her boots and coat, ignoring the way Nyx poked at her to hurry up. When she saw him looking at her, she shrugged.

“She likes to star gaze on Thursdays but we missed the last time when we were on the road. Don’t ask. Started a few years ago.” Meg was acting lighthearted about it but he could see that she was thinking it over. “Never thought it meant much until now.”

“Shouldn’t she be in bed?” Kevin asked though he also knew of the routine. He’d been dragged into it enough times.

Meg gave him a look. “You want to try?”

As if knowing what he was going to do, Nyx spun and stared at Kevin. He put his hands in the air submissively when those blue eyes glared at him. “Ok, you got me.”

“Come on, Nyxie, let’s get it over with,” Meg said but her grin softened the words. Castiel watched Nyx walk ahead of her and he felt a small part of him weaken as well as she began to talk to Kevin about the bunker. Mostly nonsense and she struggled with finding the right words, but the prophet just held her hand and let her talk. Castiel followed Meg and leaned forward so he could whisper to her as they walked.

He noticed the shudder that went over her when he did it.

“She was seeing angels fall?”

“That one night, yeah. Or I guess it was when you guys went back. She now just likes to look at the stars.” She shuddered again as he exhaled slow and smooth into her ear. “I used to think it was just a kid thing but now I’m not so sure.”

“I think I like the idea of this.” Castiel followed her up the ramp to the escape hatch. “It gives her something to see besides the bunker anyway.”

“Yeah.” Meg watched Nyx and Kevin and felt the brush of his hand as he held the door for her. She was starting to realize he was doing it deliberately and Castiel reminded himself to back off a little. “Why are you doing this, Cas? Don’t you have Winchesters to hover over instead of me and the monster?”

He smiled a little, looking a little embarrassed. “I had three years where I missed doing things like this. I want to be here.”

~~

The stargazing was strange with more than just her and Nyx. Before it had been normal, something they did together, but now that she had regained what she was, it did seem a little weird in hindsight. Nyx chattered, Kevin answered, and he let the girl sit on his knee as her tiny face remained turned up to the stars, ignorant of her parents. All the while the angel and demon remained silent beside each other. The tension between them simply continued to build and the occasional glance where their eyes locked only deepened it, neither sure if it was caution or something more.

Neither Castiel or Meg looked up at the sky. The angel mostly watched Nyx’s face, entranced by her chattering, and Meg watched his. Waiting for a sign that maybe he was about to do something, anything, that she expected. But Castiel seemed content to just be with them and eventually moved to to sit beside Kevin and Nyx.

It forced Meg to sit on the ground with them or continue to look awkward. Keeping distance between herself and Castiel wasn’t hard. She just wasn’t sure why suddenly he was throwing her off balance. Maybe it was because for a few days he had been here but had never spoken to her, clearly wanting to give her space, and now he was getting closer than before. Being the sudden focus of his attention made her restless.

Nyx pointed at something, her voice rising in a way that made Meg blink when she realized she was asking a question. Kevin, still mostly asleep, only yawned and Meg looked up to see her pointing at a star.

“It is part of Sagittarius,” Castiel said when Meg hesitated.

“Saj-saj,” Nyx fumbled with the word and Meg spotted a grin on Castiel’s face. The little girl turned around to face him, for once forgetting her reluctance around him simply because she wanted to know something. Castiel didn’t appear to worry about it as he pointed up at the sky to try to show her.

“See? There and there. It makes a shape.”

“Unicorn?” Nyx stood up and drew invisible shapes in the sky. Castiel noticed Meg flinch but kept his attention on Nyx instead. He watched her draw the lines and reached out to show her the right stars.  

“Sort of.” Kevin yawned again. “Nyxie, isn’t it time to go in? I need chocolate.”

The bribe didn’t work and she remained standing in front of Castiel even when Kevin left them outside. The slam of the bunker door didn’t snap her out of it. Without him there, the silence felt thicker than before. Meg flexed her fingers and wrapped her arms tighter around herself as the drop in temperature finally penetrated her coat.

“Is she looking for falling stars?” Castiel asked as he watched Nyx begin to draw lines in the sky with her fingers, struggling to get the constellation right. The sight was amusing when she tried so hard to get it right and he actually smiled again. “Does she do it often?”

“Not sure why. Like I said, it started a few years ago. Just got to be a habit, I guess.” Meg zipped her coat up and at the sound he looked over at her. Her head was tilted back to watch the sky now, as if to divert his attention from her, but he didn’t look away.

“Meg, we need to talk about what we are going to do.”

Her head lowered but she still didn’t face him. “Yeah.”

Knowing he’d have to move first, Castiel took his eyes off Nyx completely to focus on Meg. With childish glee, his daughter was trying to draw lines in the dirt like the shapes she had drawn in the sky and didn’t seem to notice how neither of them were paying attention to her.

Castiel reached out and let his fingers touch Meg’s on the ground. “I think being here is the safest place still,” he began and she turned her head away from Nyx. She shrugged and gestured around them.

“Do we have another choice?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Castiel hesitated because he had thought this over and knew he had to get his words right. “I had thought that maybe we could try to be….”

A loud crash inside the bunker broke the moment and he sighed, moving his hand away. “I should check that.”

“Can’t leave the prophet for a second, huh? He did have a lot to drink before,” she said and he shrugged, getting up to check on Kevin. Meg didn’t move from her spot as Nyx began to babble about the stars again. Castiel paused, realizing now what the Winchesters had meant because Nyx did seem so normal and utterly human. He could actually see a glimpse of the happy infant he had left. For a moment, she was happy and no matter how quiet and sullen her mother was it didn’t seem to make a dent in her happiness.

Castiel watched for a little longer before heading into the bunker.

What he found made him forget the quiet of being outside with Meg and Nyx. Kevin lay on his back just inside the entrance, twitching and staring at the ceiling, and the angel murmured his name as he knelt beside him. Pressing the heel of his hand onto Kevin's forehead, Castiel recognized that a vision was coming to him.  Things like this didn’t often happen to Kevin but Castiel knew, as any angel would, what he was experiencing. The orange glow in his eyes was so bright that it distorted the complexion of his skin and he whispered something in Latin before his eyes closed and opened rapidly again. 

“Kevin?”

The prophet’s back arched and he groaned aloud, the light in his eyes fading a little. He grabbed onto Castiel’s arms and held on as the angel lifted him to his feet.

“What did you see?”

“Eve. I haven’t had that many visions, Cas, outside what I saw with Nyx but I saw her. Or what I think is her, I only ever heard the stories about her.”

“What?” Sam had only told him the barest hint of what Dean had seen, and Dean’s own admissions hadn’t helped. Everything had been a blur to the hunter. Castiel didn’t know much and he had been worried that pushing for Dean to know more.

“A part of her is looking for Dean and Sam. Why?” The prophet sagged back against the wall and bent over at the waist to throw up. Castiel ignored the heaving sounds and it was only seconds before Kevin groaned and slowly regained control of his stomach.

“They’re safe though,” he muttered and Kevin’s eyes fixed on his face. Suddenly, Castiel didn’t want to question the visions anymore. Kevin buried what prophecy he experienced in alcohol and sarcasm so often that to see him like this made the angel realize how serious this could be.

“No, they aren’t.”

~~

They were in there.

Adam looked at the hospital entrance as he swung his arms from side to side in a stretch, his every scrap of shared power searching the building for what he wanted as he stared at the lit hospital windows. Each slow stretch made his changing body structure realign while the muscles popped and bones cracked. The body was almost perfect now, a warped version of what it had once been, and the demon’s soul he was attached to no longer fought him as violently as it had before. Served it right, Adam thought; the demon had done it to a human, it was only fair the demon now experienced the possession as well.

He now had a passable group of disposable creatures, all converted of course with venom and some with Eve’s eggs that still secreted out of his own body. The temptation to completely destroy the hospital he had found the demons in had been so strong. He had wanted to taste the blood and fear for himself, and knew it was the demon side to him peeking through the monster. Still, even then he had felt  _Eve’s_ voice in his head warning him that they weren’t strong enough yet. He had stayed his hand even as his thirst for violence begged him to rend flesh.

His serenity had lasted until he had figured out he was at the  **wrong** hospital.

That had been the least pleasant thing of the past few days and he had, with stunning viciousness, destroyed a pack of demons and several humans that had come to stop him. With his group of converted followers, he’d left the hospital and found the closest group of skinwalkers who made that town their territory. Once his power had been recognized as part of Eve, the skinwalkers had bowed, they had begged for his mercy, and ultimately revealed that there was a larger hospital in a close city in Kansas. The right hospital, they promised as they cowered.

_The skinwalkers hadn’t lied. He could smell them here. The Winchesters._

The only reason why he hadn’t attacked yet was because he felt the constant presence of an angel in there at odd times. It wasn’t that he was afraid of this one but he was leery to face one when he wasn’t sure of his own power yet. Since the split of Adam and Eve, he’d figured out only that Eve had kept most of her earthy magic to herself. He was given the more violent tendencies but not all of the fear-invoking power. Knowing that the angel was being followed by other angels had also kept Adam from approaching. 

Now, for the first time, the angel hadn’t been back in hours and there hadn’t been a sighting of the other Heavenly creatures for just as long.

“Plenty of time,” Adam whispered before he turned to the huddled group and leaned over a small man, touching his face. He was one of the humans he had decided to bring along. Simple things, humans, he thought to himself. Useful but simple. The few converted creatures, were not as strong as he would have liked but then again they didn’t have the closest source. He’d been tempted to bite the humans and infect them with simpler juice, the kind that would make them Eve’s creations.

It gave him a foul taste in the mouth to even think of it. He didn’t want to waste his venom on humans.

When the man lifted his eyes, so hypnotized and with in Adam’s power that he didn’t really see the horror he faced, Adam stroked his cheek and drew him close. His breath mingled with his victim’s as he leaned in and murmured to him,

“I need to find the Winchesters. They owe me some blood and if I can find them together, all the better. Raise a distraction. Then… you can end your miserable existence any way you see fit.”

The gratefulness he could see in the human’s tortured and glazed eyes made him smile. This would be entertaining. If luck was on his side, he could have their revenge and join Eve once again so they could share that power. 

~~

The nurses unlucky enough to be on the midnight shift in the emergency room were the first to die. 

Just before her throat was ripped out, one of the unlucky nurses hit the emergency button and fire alarms screeched to life, flood lights blinking on and off furiously to accompany the ear-splitting sound. The alarms covered the screams of the other nurses and on their way into the emergency room the security guards were attacked by the same creatures who moved too fast to be seen. When the guards left recovered they began to open fire on the shadows that chased each other around the halls, toppling beds and nurses as they went. Bullets embedded in the shadows, splintering them, and they all could hear the howling of dying animals, but no one could see the bodies actually fall.

They didn’t need to. The screams and the stench of blood was enough to let them know that something had come in. Calling for backup, the oldest of the guards began to pray for help as static crackled over his radio.

 

The fire alarm on the fourth level was ringing so loud that it was deafening, waking Sam up from his doze in the waiting room. He took one look at the flickering lights, then snatched up his bag of old books and ran for the ward doors. The security guards were all running by him towards the elevators and fire escapes, static on their walkie-talkies revealing only shouts about animals being in the emergency ward. No one seemed to notice that the patients in the ward were all nervously trying to get of bed and when Sam burst through the doors they shouted at him to try to see what was wrong.

He ignored them to get to Dean at the end of the row. Around the curtain, his brother was already halfway up, dressing as fast as he could. Sam threw his bag on the bed and grabbed Dean’s boots from under the bed for him.

“What’s up?” Dean demanded as he buckled his spare jeans and Sam shook his head.

“Not sure. I didn’t stop to ask questions. Something just happened in the emergency though. Most of the security is headed down and the alarms are going crazy. I think we need to get out of here,” he explained as he grabbed Dean’s wallet off the night-table.

“Good plan. Get my jacket.”

Dean hopped out of the bed and immediately regretted it as his vision spun with dizziness. Before he could grab hold of the bedrail, a hand reached out to hold onto his shoulder and steady him. He felt that familiar shift in the air that let him know Castiel had arrived and he relaxed under the firm grip. He looked up at him, eyes sleepily dragging over his face as he reached up and brushed his hand off. 

“Cas, what’s going…”

Immediately he noticed that Castiel wasn’t actually looking at him but through the curtains around Dean’s bed. The angel held a finger up to his lips and looked down the hallway of the ward. The patients were struggling out of in their beds and even those heavily sedated were twisting about as if troubled by some nightmare. They were all shouting for someone to tell them what was going on.

Sam tossed Dean his jacket and stepped up beside Castiel, leaning over his shoulder to listen. He too could hear the low sound of growls and screams in the distance but it didn’t seem any closer than it had before. At Castiel’s nod, Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and fell into step behind him. Dean murmured at the patients to stay down and out of the way but most were already crouching on the other sides of their beds.

All three men slowly made their way to the exit and slipped into the waiting room together. Shrugging his coat on, Dean quickly checked the desk but the nurses were all gone. He only hoped they were still alive.

“It’s been coming up the floors,” Castiel whispered, looking at the floor. “I can hear it in the radio. I can’t help them down there though.”

“What’s going on?”

The angel shifted, still tuned into the radio frequency. The screams he could hear made him want to race down and fight but he knew he was already too late. He only knew what instinct told him, what the prayers of the nurse downstairs had told him. “Someone is looking for you both.”

“Actually?” The intruding voice was unnaturally cheerful and they both spun to see a balding man with dark circles and sallow skin staring back at them from the other exit. “I was looking for all of you.”

Fanged teeth parted in a grin as he leaned back and tilted his chin down, peeking up at them in a coy way. “What a sight. An angel and two hunters. All for me. I feel truly blessed.”

Castiel reached for Sam and Dean and felt an immediate block that kept him still and almost rooted to the tiled floor. He knew that sort of block though he hadn’t felt it in years. It was something more elemental than an angel or demon.

Growing realization made him hesitate, looking over at the Winchesters. “Sam, get…”

When the man took a menacing step towards Dean and Sam, Castiel broke free of the power holding him still and shot forward, only to be spun around with an arm to his throat. The angel and monster went spinning through the narrow hall and Castiel struggled to get a hold, only to be thrown up against the wall. Crushed against the partition and pinned so that his legs were dangling, he stared wide-eyed at the monster and choked on his warning to Sam and Dean. The monster’s eyes were black now but he thought he could feel a demon under the monster. Bewildered, Castiel grabbed at the arm and tried to pull himself free.

“An angel. More specifically, the angel who watched the Mother be torn apart like an experiment.” A row of yellow tinged fangs came out and he licked his lips as he eyed Castiel lustfully. “How nice.”

Dean and Sam hesitated, wanting to help Castiel and not knowing how. The man turned to look at them when he noticed how both men were edging forward. “Oh no, don’t go far. I’m not done with either of you yet.”

“Go!” Castiel shouted as his sword slid out of his sleeve to his free hand and he plunged it into the arm holding him. The monster grunted, sparks of orange light flying over his skin, but he didn’t let go of the angel. Instead, he batted the sword out of Castiel’s hand and sent it to the ground far out of his reach. Dean and Sam went running for the stairs, ignoring the blaring sirens and emergency lights.

“And I told them not to run.” The man holding Castiel sighed in disappointment. “Then there’s you angels. Always so quick with the sword, aren’t you?”

Castiel swallowed deeply as the strange eyes fixed on him, whispering in a husky voice, “You’re a Leviathan.”

The mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’m not something that simple, boy. I’m something far more than that. I’m…complex.” Leaning forward, he sniffed at Castiel’s neck. “Your trench-coat still reeks of the Impala.”

Castiel stared, because he had only ever heard those words from Crowley years ago.

“And…” He paused and took a deep inhale close to Castiel’s pulse, almost teasing him. “Of demon now. What have you been rolling in?” the monster asked as he leaned back. He saw Castiel’s confusion and tsked several times. “You don’t recognize me? I don’t blame you. I am in a different form. I’m not used to the… male side yet. Feelings are different, what with all these new parts I don’t often feel.”

Castiel choked as the arm on his throat pushed up hard. “Eve.”

“Adam, actually. Because of what I am, you know. Part of her but not her. I found that humans are very quick to name monsters, though they are very good at taking orders when you give them incentive.” A loud scream and a blur of a man falling past the window made them both look. The monster shrugged a shoulder. “Speak of the devil. It looks like one served his purpose.”

Feral eyes turning on the angel, Adam smiled. “You are so willing to die for the humans, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to die,” Castiel whispered.

“You’re so confident of that.” He squeezed hard just to feel Castiel’s windpipe crush a little under the pressure. “I’ve been dying to taste angel blood, Castiel.” Leaning forward, he sniffed at him and his fangs receded as his disgust became clear. “You smell like a demon.” His nose dragged closer up his skin. “And something else. You’ve been close to something I don’t recognize. Something... new.”

Adam’s eyes widened and he pulled back to look into Castiel’s eyes. “What have you done, angel?”

“Hey!” Sam’s voice caught the attention of angel and monster. When they both looked, he slammed a fire extinguisher into Adam’s forehead and sent him crashing backwards. Castiel dropped to the ground and watched as the hunter did it again and again, crushing the monster’s skull under the fury of his onslaught. Startled, Adam swung out blindly and Sam ducked, uppercutting him again with the bottom of the heavy canister. Grabbing his sword, Castiel was ready to leap back in to help Sam when Adam was driven backwards through the window. He howled as he plummeted through the glass and over the ledge of the window.

Together, angel and human looked out to see him sprawled on the pavement four stories down. From what Castiel could see, his eyes were open and staring but he couldn't tell if he was actually looking at them. Maybe, he hoped, the impact had broken enough bones to kill him.

“Guys?” Dean’s voice caught their attention from the stairwell. While rubbing at his chest, he raised his eyebrows as Sam brushed the broken glass off the ledge. “Where’s my car? He didn’t land on my car, did he?”

“Priorities, Dean. I’ll get it back to Lebanon,” Sam said before glancing at Castiel. “He needs to get to the bunker.”

“I’ll take him.”

“Sam, it’s not safe.” Dean looked around at the still flickering lights. “I can…”

“I can get out of here faster. Go with Cas, Dean. I’ll be right behind you guys.” Sam looked at Castiel and before Dean could protest they were gone. Leaving Sam to slip through the hospital to where he had parked the Impala and hope that he wasn’t being followed by any of the monsters he could hear running around the hospital.

~~

Far below, his impact having cracked the pavement, Adam’s bones began to slowly fix themselves. His skull filled back out slowly like a balloon being blown full of air and his spine cracked into place. The broken jaw and cheekbones carved themselves back out and the skin repaired slowly around each wound that Sam Winchester had caused. With a groan, he sat up and stretched his arm out, watching as the bone that had pierced his skin slid back into place.

The two skinwalkers standing over him nervously looked at each other.

“Well?” he demanded once his teeth rebuilt as well. “What are you waiting for? Go find them.”

~~

Meg saw Nyx slump a little, the long night finally catching up to the tired little girl. “All right, kiddo, time to go in,” she muttered as she slid her hand down and grasped Nyx’s. The small fingers wrapped between Meg's longer ones and squeezed. Her hand was cold and she was swaying a little on her feet.

“Tired.”

“I get that. Long night?”

“Dreamed. Clouds,” Nyx muttered and scrubbed at her face tiredly with her other hand. “Heaven.”

Meg had never heard Nyx say that word before. “What are you talking about?” She bent down to look closely at her and Nyx’s lower lip trembled. “Nyx?”

“Don’t like it.” Nyx burrowed a little deeper in her coat and Meg lifted the brim of her hat to look at her. 

“When did you start dreaming of clouds?” she asked and saw her eyes dart up. 

“Don’t know.”

It was too much of a coincidence, Meg thought, that Nyx would start dreaming of Heaven the same time Castiel had revived her memories of him.

“Don’t worry, you’re staying here with me, got it?” she said and gave her a squeeze. Nyx seemed so trusting in her; strange for a child to trust a demon, but Meg felt it from her. It balanced the demon a little to feel that faith from her and she stood up.

“She knows her future home.” The too soft of voice was a sudden intrusion on the quiet and Meg turned around abruptly to face a young man. His face struck her as familiar but she couldn’t place it for a second until she felt that hum of Grace crackling in the air around them. Then it came back to her and she took a step backwards with Nyx. She remembered that face from the town, and from years before when an Archangel had possessed the forgotten Winchester brother.

“Michael.”

The smile he gave her was not remotely warm.

“Castiel’s demon. I thought you were dead. We all wished it but here you are,” he said, snapping his fingers. He made no move toward her but she knew he wasn’t just going to stand there and talk her ear off. He wanted something.

More angels appeared beside him, blocking her way inside to the bunker. Careful to keep them all in her eyesight, Meg tugged Nyx closer and felt the way she clutched at her hand. Michael’s watery blue eyes fixed on the girl and Meg thought she saw a glimmer of yellow in his eyes for just a moment before it cleared.

“So, there she is. The bastard abomination.”

“Back off,” Meg warned, aware of two angels behind her so close that she could feel their Grace just touching her. Nyx pressed up into her front and Meg quickly tried to spy a way out. They were blocked by the angels and she knew if she teleported with Nyx the chance of being caught was high.

“Or what?” Michael smiled. He bent over at the waist and stared at the child. “We are just here because we are interested in such a fascinating little girl. She is our niece, after all. Hello, what’s your name?”

Meg clamped her hand over Nyx’s mouth to keep her from answering. “I won’t say it again.”

“I may not be an Archangel any longer, Meg,” his voice dropped and slowly his eyes lifted to hers, “but you will respect my power.”

In the shadow of the trees as lightning cracked through the sky, tattered wings loomed. The threat of him was supposed to make her shake in fear, she knew, but she had seen greater angels, greater  _gods,_ and it would take more than just wings to get her cowering. Meg jutted out her chin and felt Nyx gripping her tighter. Unlike Meg, the little girl had never seen an angel besides Castiel and to see them like this was terrifying for her.

Meg reached down and touched the top of her head to keep her calm.

“You really have no one else to blame but yourself and Castiel. I would have thought you’d know better than to trust him. It isn’t like we haven’t had our eye on him and this bunker the whole time. Our little brother was acting strange. Even for him.” Michael shifted his shoulders and the shadow of wings disappeared. “We’re not here to kill her.”

“You’re hilarious. That’s supposed to be a reason why I should trust you?” Meg snapped and Michael actually laughed and the sound bordered on the hysterical. The demon noticed how even some of the angels look bewildered by the way he laughed.

“Oh you shouldn’t. Because I need her. I just don’t need you.” He snapped his fingers and Meg felt something tearing through her. It was the bitter sort of pain she hadn’t felt since she had been on the rack in Hell. It sliced through her as if it knew which cracks in her revealed her soul, icy tendrils slipping into invisible gashes on her soul and beginning to pull them apart as if to look for the smoke and darkness that held her at its seams. 

Meg's arms went numb in shocked agony. Her fingers slipped through Nyx’s grip and she heard the girl’s cry for her, felt her palm tickled by a featherlight touch as she was pulled back. Fighting back was even more excruciating as Michael's power snared at her limbs, wrapped around her inside and out before tossing her into the arms of the two angels. Their rough grip woke her numb body up just enough that she regained her control. She slammed her elbow into the angel who reached for her and he reared back, cradling a broken nose. The other angel behind her quickly looped his arm around Meg’s neck and squeezed, his palm resting flat on her forehead in warning.

Meg didn't want to look away from Michael, not wanting to see how the angels had surrounded Nyx. But at the low call from her Meg squirmed against the angel's hold to see what was happening. Nyx looked tiny and frail between all of them but she wasn’t crying though she was terrified. The child just shook and tried bravely to stand up to the way they loomed over her.

“Kill the demon, kill...” Michael began but something stalled him. His head tilted and he seemed to be listening to something else within. Quickly his hand lifted. “No. Don’t kill her.”

“Michael?” The angel restraining Meg was not holding her tight and,  to Meg’s surprise, his grip loosened as if he was going to free her. “Castiel will— we should not threaten her. She isn’t ours to threaten. She is under his protection!”

Before he could continue, Michael launched through the air and pummelled him to the ground. He cried out as he lifted him up and shook him like a doll in his arms. The angel whimpered at the way Michael twisted him around so hard his bones cracked at the pressure. He dropped like a heavy stone to the ground, whimpering at the pain as the other angel struck him in the face.

“Do as you are ordered, Henel. I won’t stand for disobedience any longer. You have all run loose for too long.”

Falling away from the pair, Meg rolled to her knees and held out her arms on instinct. “Nyx!” she snapped out in a low order. Still between the other angels who had surrounded her, Nyx saw Meg's hands reaching for her and ducked the angels' reach and ran between their legs. They shouted in surprise and swatted at her but she was tiny and quick, leaping into Meg’s arms for protection.

The demon squeezed her tight and Michael turned around to see them together. He moved fast, abandoning the crippled angel below him, and reaching into his coat. Seeing a glint of silver, Meg threw up her arm and deflected the first blow with her arm, ignoring the excruciating pain of the blow as the angel sword sliced through the exposed skin. Nyx cried out but Meg grit her teeth and slid the girl around her body to protect her. 

“You are so disappointing right now,” Michael whispered as he dug the knife in deeper, until the blade hit bone.

There was something about Michael’s eyes that confused Meg more than the anger that she was being attacked. What she saw within him was twisted and bizarre. Slowly, his eyes shifted so that yellow stared back at her and the different tone in his voice sent a chill of pure threat down her spine and she realized why his face was familiar as her last memories from weeks ago came back to her. He had been the one to stab her and force Castiel to bring back her back to what she had once been.

The eyes held her and his grin widened when he saw her recognition.

“Hello, Meg.”

The blade scraped deeper as he swung it too fast for her to see, her arm still taking most of the blow as her jacket and skin tore under the pressure. He snarled and lashed out again, this time aiming for her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, Meg saw another glitter of silver flashing downwards. The angel sword screeched as it struck another, the holy metals clashing and echoing in the night air. Michael snarled in fury and turned just as Meg was shoved backwards from him and she rolled with Nyx to protect herself.

There was the sound of a loud scuffle and Meg pulled Nyx completely under her body before she found the strength to get to her hands and knees. From behind the dark curtain of her hair, she looked up and realized who had stopped Michael.

Castiel stood just over her, his mouth bloodied to match the fading bruises that decorated his battered face. Behind him, Dean slumped against the open door to the bunker and Kevin, likely having heard the noise from inside, was fiddling with a leather satchel. He only spared Meg a glance before he handed Dean something. Castiel took no notice of them, his eyes only on Michael and the angels at his back.

Getting to her feet, Meg ignored Castiel’s warning look and faced Michael beside him. Nyx all but crawled beneath Meg's coat with her, shivering in fear.

The angel smiled at her indulgently. “So you still have your weaknesses, Castiel,” he said without taking his eyes away from Meg. 

“Get out of here.”

“You hid this from Heaven, from your own family.” Michael’s head slowly tilted toward him. “That’s a shame.”

Everyone noticed how Castiel swayed a little. 

“Leave.”

“Or? All I want is a moment alone with your little girl. Find out what she is really like. She must be very special for not only an angel to protect her but a demon and a hunter too.”

Meg felt Nyx clinging to her neck. “Gonna have to kill me first,” she snapped and Michael smiled.

“That could be arranged.”

His peripheral vision let Castiel spot Dean working fast on the door of the bunker. “Meg?” Her furious eyes went to his face but he didn’t look over at her. “Hold onto Nyx.”

Before she could question it, the light flashed across the clearing outside the bunker and then burnt out just as quickly as it had come, taking with it the angels. The sigil Dean had drawn pulsed for a several seconds before fading into just blood stained on the door of the bunker. Meg could still feel the heat of the first blast crawling over her and she winced as the wound in her arm knitted over and began to heal.

Nyx was still shivering, the humans were talking low and excited, but now with the angels gone all Meg could feel was a cold fury.

Though who she was angry at, she wasn’t sure.

~~

“You okay?” Dean asked Meg once they were all back in the bunker. Kevin had taken Nyx to the common room to try to calm her down and Dean had been confused by why Meg, normally protective over Nyx, was almost avoiding her now. He wasn't sure if Meg was maternal at all or knew that she had an ace up her sleeve with Nyx; he just knew that he had seen her wince when Nyx had shrunk back away from her the second they were in the bunker.

“Don’t act like you’re concerned, Dean.” Meg turned away from him. “Hand me the brush.”

“You should be with Nyx.”

“Now.” She snapped her fingers and he sighed, passing it over to her with the can of red paint. She went to work with single-minded focus and, tired as he was, he set out to aid her. 

Not wanting to bring it up again, Dean resigned himself to helping Meg paint the wards on the bunker walls, and he was aware of her infrequent looks whenever his hand went unsteady. He had to fight to keep himself upright, not wanting even a moment’s weakness to show in front of her and as the boring task continued he was struggling harder and harder to keep himself strong.

But Meg seemed more preoccupied by her own thoughts now, her painting aggressive and angry. Like him, she knew her wards and she drew them sloppy but accurately. It would block the angels out for a while and there were enough traps around the entirety of the bunker that it wouldn’t be hard to keep them out for a little longer.

“I haven’t seen Michael in years,” Dean tried as the silence went on too long but she didn’t answer, still painting. The marks were now saturating the walls, the thick red paint forming gobs that dripped down the wall like clotted blood. “Then there was the hospital and the monsters that showed up.”

“Shut it, Winchester.”

“Just making conversation.” He noticed her still favouring her arm. The leather jacket hid most of the gash, but it would take a while for her to heal completely from the mark. “Might want to get that looked at.”

“Whatever,” Meg hissed and she jerked the sleeve down to cover her wound.

The loud knock at the door kept him from saying anything more and he set his brush down with a thankful sigh. Meg ignored the knocking and began painting the wall beside the door instead.

Keeping one hand on his knife, Dean cracked open the spy hole and peered out. Castiel and Sam stood together, the dusk light making them both shadowy and he smiled. “Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want it,” he shouted through the steel door.

“You’re feeling better,” Sam grumbled. “Open the stupid door, Dean, before we get caught out here.” 

Dean shrugged and yanked it half-open. Sam squeezed by and quickly noticed Meg. The demon was painting the opposing wall with such vengeance that the paint was splattering on the floor. “Hey, Meg.”

She didn’t answer.

“I found Cas on the side of the road coming back. Which was lucky because I'm sure some trucker thought he looked like he survived a gang war.” Sam glanced at the demon again. “He told me what happened.”

Castiel said nothing; instead the angel locked the door and helped Dean barricade it again with a heavier brace. When he turned away, he caught sight of Meg and nervously looked away at Dean instead.“How is Nyx?”

“She’s not hurt,” Dean said, smiling as if consoling him. Noticing how nervous the angel was, he cleared his throat and nudged Sam in the shoulder. “Come on, we need to find something to finish this up with.”

“I’ll get the Holy Oil. Maybe we can line the doorframe with it.” 

The brothers went to the closest supply cabinet but still kept some of their attention on Meg and Castiel. They were shamelessly eavesdropping, both having noticed the immediate tension between them. Dean gestured at Meg, then at Cas, and drew a slicing motion across his throat. Sam nudged him hard in the side and he winced but clammed up anyway as they tried to find the missing bottles.

Coming to stand just beside Meg, Castiel touched one of the marks she'd made on the wall.

“This is good. This will work.”

Meg snorted and slashed her paint down into another arch.

“Are you hurt?” Castiel asked though he could clearly see the healing wound on her arm. Meg set her brush down with a bang and he watched a mixture of emotions cross her face. Anger, hate, exhaustion, mistrust… he wasn’t sure which was stronger. Whatever had eased between them just hours before had come back in force, throwing up a wall he hadn’t expected.

“Did you know they would follow you?” she demanded.

“No.”

The demon pushed him out of her way. “I doubt that.”

Resigned to her anger lashing out, he followed her to the common room, hearing the Winchesters just behind them. Nyx was bundled up again within a heavy comforter, watching cartoons, and she at least looked a little less terrified. Kevin was reading his own book as he walked around and he gave them a nod for acknowledgement. 

Sam grabbed the Holy Oil out of the cabinet under the sink and headed back to the door despite Dean’s protest that he should stay. Castiel nearly asked him to stay as well when what he felt from Meg only seemed to continue to increase in tension.

When he chanced another look at her, he noticed Meg’s hostility just in the faint quirk to her eyebrows and lips. Castiel watched the defensive way the demon had crossed her arms over her chest. Every movement now seemed jerky and yet too controlled, and he knew that it was a bad sign. When Meg's head lifted, he had to look away from her and focus on Kevin instead.

“She’ll be fine?” he asked as the prophet came close to him. The young man shrugged. 

“I think so. Nyx was just startled. They couldn’t get a good grip on her.”

The accusing way Meg's eyes were now focussed on Castiel made him stare even harder at the prophet instead of her.

“She’s a smart kid,” Dean agreed. “Was she hurt?” 

“Well.” Kevin shrugged.

“What?” Meg and Castiel asked in unison.

“Whatever Michael was going to try, it scared her and she saw a few angels come down and threaten her. I mean, it’s a lot for a kid to absorb.”

“So we wait. See how she is,” Castiel began.

“It’s not hard to figure out, Cas. She’s a kid. She’s scared,” Dean said.

Meg opened her mouth to answer when she felt something tug on her hand. In their discussion, Nyx had moved from the couch to stand just below her, her eyes wide and staring. Instead of the fear she'd seen there before, now the trusting child was back. Meg dropped to a knee and gave her a wry smile.

“You okay, baby girl?”

Nyx nodded. “Hungry.”

“You’re not hurt?”

Castiel noticed the gentle way Meg was touching the child but he could hear from the tone in her voice that she was barely controlling what she wanted to lash out with. So could Dean and the hunter gave Nyx's hair a ruffle.

“I can get her something. I’m actually hungry too,” he offered, sensing the line of fire he was in.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said. “I think Meg and I have to talk.”

Meg’s eyes caught and held his, and Castiel moved forward a few steps towards her. Dean noticed the looks and cleared his throat. “Come on, Nyx, we’ll watch cartoons and I’ll get you something.”

With still remarkable trust, she put her tiny hand in his and let him lead her away to the kitchen. Feeling as if he was going to an execution, Castiel followed Meg out of the common room but she never looked back at him. As they passed the table, he noticed Kevin watching them both with obvious confusion. But no one came to save him and it was clear by the way Meg was walking that she expected him to follow her.

When Sam came back and noticed Nyx sitting with Dean, he raised his eyebrows. The loud cartoons were being watched by his brother and, perched on his knee, Nyx was steadily ripping apart a package of crackers and popping them into her mouth. Tired as he was, Dean managed to grin up at him. 

“You got stuck on babysitter duty?”

“Meg and Cas had to have a talk,” Dean said, emphasizing the word by making quotations in the air. “Figured it was better to let them fight it out and stay out of their way.”

Noticing the lights flickering, Sam shrugged. “After the night we just had, what’s the worst they can do?”

~~

Castiel noticed how Meg didn’t even look back at him as she walked away from the common room, through the hall to where the basement doors still were propped open. He followed close behind, realizing where they were going with a crawling apprehension. Meg made her way to the holding cell where years ago she had been put to make sure she didn’t cause trouble. Castiel could remember vividly everything that had happened within these walls and he wondered if she did as well. When he made it in and closed the door, he wondered why she would come here of all places.

“Meg.”

She kept her back to him for one more moment, as if deciding what next to say, before she spun and slammed her fist into his jaw hard enough that he fell back.  Shaking out her hand, Meg moved into a defensive pose as if ready for him to spring back at her for the blow.

“You son of a bitch,” she whispered. “You knew they were going to do that, didn’t you?”

Castiel cradled his jaw, stunned by the strength behind that blow, by the way everything about her seemed to crackle with fury.  “I…”

“Did you know they could be following you?” Her hand lashed out and caught his tie, wrenching it so hard he felt the pressure of material cutting into his throat. She yanked him in close and he stared down, not wanting to bend to her. “Did you?”

“I knew they had followed me earlier but I didn’t expect the angels to come here. They have too much to worry about in fixing Heaven .” He flexed his hand and she was pushed back a little by his Grace to give him breathing room. “They aren’t interested in her. I know they aren’t.”

“Doesn’t look that way! They knew she was here! That I was here.” Meg’s voice rose in a shout. “They held me down and they nearly grabbed her! If you had come a second later, I’d be dead again and they’d have her!”

“I thought she would be safe here.”

“You’re not that stupid, Castiel. There is no safe.” Her lips were a flat line of anger. “Why did I think maybe it would be? I’m stupider than you. ! I’m not about to die for this shit.”

His fist caught hers when she moved to go past her and he spun her close. “Stop, I don’t - “ Her elbow caught him in the throat and he gasped as he went down to a knee. “Meg.”

“I am so, so sick of all of this!” She ran her hands through her hair and paced a quick few steps. “Of the angels. Of being some goddamn puppet on your God’s strings. What has he done once that is right?”

Castiel flinched and knew he had to try harder to reach her through the bloodlust and anger he could see plain on her face. The loathing there wasn’t directed solely at him. It was also at herself.

“He gave us Nyx.”

He had hoped that would throw her off, make her retreat, but all it did was make her scream in anger and fly at him until his back met the cement wall and his head smacked into the iron post. Meg’s slight weight pressed against him to keep him pinned and he stared down at her in surprise, so stunned that he thought his vision was swimming and causing her to blur. Her eyes went black when he muttered at her and her nails dug like needles into the shoulders of his coat before she yanked him forward by his collar. Not caring that he wasn’t fighting back, Meg shoved him up higher against the wall until his toes just grazed the floor.

“Get it through your stupid angel brain, Castiel. God doesn’t care and he never will. Even if he did, he’s a sick bastard to do that to a child and give her nothing to know of what she is.” Meg’s voice had dropped from a shout to a low husky growl and that was somehow worse than if she had screamed at him. “He’s the sort of fuck up my Father called him.”

“Meg, stop.” Knowing that she actually believed that blasphemy, he grabbed at her shoulders and shook her. “Stop this.”

“What is the best thing your God ever did, Castiel?” She pressed her knee up between them and he felt it crunch into his stomach, causing him to bend over and chortle in surprise. Seeing it rise again, he caught her leg and tried to prevent her from kneeing him in the groin next. Meg continued to spit out her rage at him, “I’m telling you that that little girl isn’t one of them!”

Temper pricked by her scalding words, Castiel shoved her back so hard that she fell to her knees and he was instantly horrified by what he had done. Meg’s nails scraped on the cement floor and he watched her head tilt back to stare up at him, mouth curved into a sneer. Panting for breath, he looked at her and swallowed down what he wanted to say. That he understood her anger, her helplessness when the angels had come because he felt it towards himself. That they both should have known what could happen.

“Don’t do this,” he ordered instead. He could see the line of blood where her teeth had cut her lip and he splayed his hands out in supplication. When she jumped off her feet and came at him again, he grabbed her arms and held her still away from him. “Please, Meg.”

“You ruined my life! I was better years ago and….” She struggled and the grip on her arms tightened.

“I never meant to.”

“Then you took away what I was. Almost four years and they could have come at any time! Did you fucking think of that?”

His teeth clenched as he realized that the fight she had threatened him with was about to erupt. “Stop.” Feeling her hands digging into the top of his own arms, he yanked her around and planted her hard against the wall behind them. “Stop this!”

“Or what?” Meg’s eyes went black and as her darkness attacked him his Grace roared to life defensively. He could feel the telekinetic push of her, yanking at him and trying to throw him around. His insides actually burned from the force of it. Tightening his fingers on her arms, he pushed her back and felt the wall crack under the force of his Grace as it warred with her own power.

He was pressed close again to block her from moving and stared down at her. “Stop.”

“Come on, Castiel.” Her eyes were still black, still impossible to read. “You can’t tell me you still have faith in God.”

“I still have faith… in all of you.”

“Let me go find those angels or give me a fight, Cas. I’m tired of this shit.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he warned and he felt her nails dig into his arms again in warning. Her forehead slammed his chin and his teeth cut into his cheek. Annoyed that she was still not listening, he pulled back and let her arms go.

“Why do you want to do this?” he asked, spitting out blood. A fine line of blood on her nose showed and he blinked through the surprising sparks of pain. Her darkness still pushed at him, thorns scratching and biting into his Grace and, damn, he wanted to fight with her now the more the demon threatened him.

“Why? I saw your precious family nearly snatch the one thing I care about.” The hold he had on her didn’t lessen though he looked away to try to regain his concentration. “You’re lucky I don’t have an angel sword on me or I’d be hunting down every last one of them.”

His eyes gleamed with anger. “This is my fault then.

So because they aren’t here, you want to fight me to punish them.”

“Gets everything into the open, Castiel.” She worked a hand free to wipe at her mouth. “Better than us dancing around how it is going to be.”

“I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Can’t get any worse than what happened.” Her grin turned feral. “Newsflash, Castiel. You can’t hurt me that bad.”

He dodged the fist aimed at his chest and tripped over his own feet when she kicked them from under him. He debated on keeping his arms down, on fending off her blows, and letting her tire herself out. What answering shoves he returned were half-hearted at first, his hesitance to fight the weaker demon making it difficult to do more than that... until he lost himself in the fight. In the heat and darkness of it. Suddenly he wanted her to feel what he felt.

They rolled on the ground and he latched his arm around her waist to keep her close so she couldn't nail him again. When he saw her moving, he put his hand around her throat with his fingers tightening to the point of bruising grip when she actually went to head-butt him.

Meg struck at his chest instead but he didn’t feel it, staring at her face in surprise as he realized that she didn't care that he could kill her. He’d forgotten how unafraid Meg was to fight someone much bigger than her meatsuit and under his anger and frustration he felt something strangely like admiration. Taking advantage of him, Meg’s power curled around him and she swung him up into the wall. Small as she was, she was faster than he and her power was still strong enough to pin him for a few moments. Cursing, Castiel caught her hand and twisted hard to the left. She ducked a swing and he used her momentum to turn her around with him.

The crush of his weight against her forced Meg to stop trying to hit him. Heaving for breath, she stared at him and his breath caught in his throat with what he saw in her face.

_What he felt radiating from her._

“Meg...”

Her head leaned back and she watched him with the wariness of a cat about to be struck. “I just want to hate you,” she said finally, as if it was the simplest thing she could think of. Even the way she blurted out her next words was calm. “I want to.”

Letting her hands go, Castiel leaned close and his hand touched her cheek. Her eyelids drooped a little and he felt her relax, just slightly, into him.

“Meg,” he breathed out and he lowered his head. Wanting to show her some sign of affection, of comfort like he might have years ago, he grazed her cheek with his mouth. 

She jerked her head to the side before he could kiss her, but didn’t move away. He looked down between them as he braced his arm on the wall over her head, judging the damage they'd done to each other and trying to guess what he should do next. Physically, he should have felt like he was trapping her but instead he felt like she was holding him within her power again.

“I could hate you so easily,” she whispered against the curve of his neck and shoulder. “And I still want to…”

“I know.” Part of him even wanted that hate even though he was slowly feeling that need in her tangle with his own. He hadn’t felt this way in years, when he had wanted something much more from this demon, and it was like a reminder of that night years ago. He hadn't _needed_ like this in so long that the sensation was overwhelming.

His fists clenched when she looked up at him and Meg let him see that familiar look in her eyes. He’d not seen it from another person, another demon or angel; never with the same force of emotion behind it. There was something about it that made his stomach turn over nervously and he murmured her name, only to see her eyes darken even more than before. He tried again to kiss her, wanting to show her something gentler but she moved her head away again and instead he felt her mouth brush his neck again.

When her moist lips, still sticky with blood and saliva, touched his sensitive skin, he knew exactly what was going to happen.

“We can’t do this.”

“Doesn’t make any sense to,” Meg agreed but her hands were betraying her as they slid down his chest. He shuddered, all of those memories springing back to life within him, and he knew he was as lost as before. Suddenly his Grace and his own mind, once fighting her, were trying to get close to her in furious desire. He pressed closer and touched her neck with his mouth, opening his mouth against the curve of her throat. The familiar taste of her skin made his eyes close and he let his tongue rasp gently over her skin, feeling the way she swallowed hard in reaction.

“You know we can’t do this,” he said when he lifted his head a little. Meg only turned her head to his neck and treated him to the same rough mixture of tongue and teeth he had given her.

“We can,” Meg murmured.

He felt her fingers undoing his belt, tugging at the leather, and her mouth grew more demanding at his neck, sucking a red mark that would bruise if he was human. Her teeth bit into his collarbone and he groaned as he reached between them to catch at her hands. Knowing what she wanted and terrified how easily he was going along with this because of his own desire, he let her hands go and moved his own over her shoulders. He braced his arms on either side of her head and leaned into her, kissing her below her earlobe when she refused to turn her head to let him touch her lips with his.

It sent warning bells off in his head but it didn't stop him from kissing what skin he could find. Meg's head ducked and he heard her moan against his chest as her teeth dragged over the material of his shirt.

“We can,” Meg repeated before her hands went to his waist. Her nails dug into the small of his back to pull him closer. “Because it is either this or we let it all build up, then fight and kill each other eventually. I want to hate you so badly and you… you....” 

  Castiel’s mind was dizzy with want and confusion, not sure if Meg even knew what she wanted. She just _wanted_ and he was pulled into her dizzying orbit of darkness and lust. He could feel that need radiating off her and it was déjà vu to how she had seduced him on the night that Nyx had been conceived. But this time lacked the hesitation of two people new to one another. They were running on memory alone and Castiel crooked his head into her neck as he pushed at the sides of her coat. The garment slid off when she shrugged her shoulders to remove it and he nudged her shirt down over her collarbones with his lips. He felt how warm her skin was now under his mouth and heard the rush of her gasping when he sucked on her pulse point.

Reaching between them with one hand, he unbuckled her belt at the same time she began to unzip him. Castiel crouched lower as his mouth moved over her, feeling her fingers tighten in his hair as he took her clothed breast between his lips, and then the pull of her fingers in his hair when he sucked harder, not caring about the taste of fabric. Meg groaned in response and he let her covered nipple go when she pulled harder on his hair to move him. Castiel leaned forward; his lips ghosted over her shirt as he pulled her up with him with his arm bracing under her thighs. Meg’s fingers shoved on his coat and he awkwardly let it drop from his shoulders before he stood up with her legs moving to wrap around his hips.

Every tension he felt was now coiled in his stomach, his desire warring with the knowledge that this was wrong.

_This wasn't how it should be._

_What was he doing? Why were they doing this?_

Turning his head to the side, he tried to pull back but her hand caught him by the back of his neck.

“Old times sake,” she snarled against his throat, biting at his jaw, and he shuddered while his shoulders hunched forward at the pain of her nails digging into his skin. Distantly, he heard himself say yes to her and her own muffled words of agreement. He heard the snap of his belt falling, and then her legs dragged higher up his hips. 

Mind stuck in a fog, Castiel grabbed her jeans and bent to force them down, catching one pant-leg on the heel of her boot. He yanked, leaving one side of her jeans and her panties dangling from her ankle, but before he could pull back again to help her, her legs slid up his waist again. He knew he was lost when he felt her body grind against his and he couldn't stop himself from pushing up at her movements.

Even after the three years apart, she still had a way of making him feel like he was going to drown in her.

He tried to kiss her again but Meg kept her mouth away, letting him only feel her panting breath and her teeth just barely brushing his lips when she outmanoeuvred him. Determined, Castiel opened his eyes to see where she'd moved to but caught her watching him just as warily. It was the misery in her eyes that made his breath catch in his throat; misery and anger.

Castiel had forgotten what it was to see such beauty in her anger.

“Meg.”

“I want to hate you. It’s the only thing I can feel between us, Cas, that makes sense. So put up or shut up.”

The ferocity in the words made him believe it and he had been human for two years. He heard what she meant under the bitter words. He knew what she wanted and why she wanted it. The last time something like this had happened he’d been giving in to her need for reality; this time it was because he wanted her to feel something towards him that matched how he felt now.

Even if he wasn't sure how he felt now.

Lowering his head, he rested against her shoulder as he gripped her legs and kept them tight around his waist before he moved into her. What desire and pleasure he should have felt now, what joy because _Heaven_ it should and did feel like he was where he wanted to be, was lost now that he suddenly felt cold and infuriated instead. He wanted her, so badly, but the feeling of happiness that he was here with her was an emotion now buried. He felt anger towards her now: for forcing his hand and not believing in him.

Meg felt the change in him as the power that had coiled in his body unleashed and the arms wrapped around her waist tighter. The lights in the room slashed off and plunged the room into total darkness. It only made their muffled groans and breathing seem louder than ever before as they thrust and shifted against one another. 

She reached down to grip his shoulders and his power pushed her hands off, singeing them with hot Grace that for a second dominated her demonic power. The fury between them was something they had both forgotten. Now, uncaged, her darkness snarled as his own light warred with her.

The old iron pipe she was against collapsed when Meg tried to use it to hold herself up and she sank down hard into him. Grunting with effort, Castiel’s knees buckled at the sudden extra weight and he swung her down underneath him onto the cold floor and ignored his open clothing as he moved to his knees. Noticing the look he shot her, she slid halfway across the floor before he pulled her back up into him, his teeth biting at her shoulder in an effort to keep his moans in.

Meg's hips arched within his grip and she took him deep again, her hands crushed between them as he held her close. He palmed her breasts and stroked her skin, trying to keep up with her. Meg made low sounds, some encouraging, some angry, and he tried to slow down, tried to bring about that passion they had managed to find before. An angry sort of passion that had eventually softened from savage need to a sense of belonging.

He was trying to rekindle something as he tried to remember what she needed to feel that way again.

Something was wrong though, he could sense it, because no matter how he tried she refused to go over the edge before him. No gentle strokes, harder touches and bites, and no whispered moans in her ear seemed to help bring Meg to climax. Where years ago sex like this had been a release, Meg’s anger was too visceral, too real. It made her so tense that, while it was pleasurable for him, she seemed to only be going through the motions.

_It was too fast,_ Castiel thought. It wouldn't last and he wanted it to last so much.

Even knowing that didn't slow his long thrusts into her body, nor did he stop her from using her body to torment him with what he wanted.

It made something about this forbidding and less meaningful. He’d hoped….

Her legs clenched harder around his waist and he felt her inner muscles give an unexpected squeeze around him _. It had been so long._ The sudden realization that he was going to lose control made him try to grapple for it, his body aching as he tried to bear down and force himself to calm down. But when he felt her skin quivering under his touch as he tried to pull away, he moaned and leaned down to give her another deep thrust that made her breath intake sharply.

“I’m going to - “ he breathed out in her ear and she dug her nails into his hips before she scraped them up his back. He knew she wasn’t close and he felt the strain in her from fighting him whenever his touches tried to coax her to follow him. His thrusts grew more staccato, losing rhythm as she tugged on his hair and bit hard into his neck when the rhythm of their movements became nearly painful. He was close, they both could feel it, and try as he might she kept her head turned from him so he couldn’t kiss her. His arms tightened around her, his breathing coming out in hoarse pants as he thrust harder into her. A sudden vicious need to lose himself in her, the kind that had brought on this strange relationship in the first place, made him put his head on his shoulder and chase that release.

He heard her breathing quicken, and he kissed her neck, the touch almost begging her to remember how it once was.

“Meg, please,” he whispered on his last broken thrusts.

But just as he lost all control, Meg suddenly shoved him off with her demonic strength and Castiel went flat on his back beside. The shock of losing her warmth didn't stop his body from what it wanted. He came into the empty air, hips jerking and finding no pleasure in the release. Even as his body throbbed and burned, endorphins exploding within, he began gasping for breath and was unable to help the low keening moan from escaping his throat.

Too quickly it was over, nothing lasting after that bittersweet bite of euphoria. Castiel stared at the ceiling with nothing short of dazed confusion, thrown off by the violence of his release and the disappointment that he hadn’t felt hers.

Meg sprawled beside him, her body aching with need. Wanting what she'd denied herself with a force of will she'd forgotten she had. Beyond the tension that still throbbed inside of her, she hadn’t come thanks to the abrupt way he’d slipped out of her.

When Castiel managed to recover enough from the startling way she’d shoved him away, he looked over to see her crawling over to the nearby cot and using the bed sheet to wipe at herself. Like him, she was still mostly clothed but he could see the sheen of sweat on what skin was exposed.

Meg's head turned a little and he saw from her profile that she was quickly recovering from what had happened. She set the sheet back on the bed and turned to face him.

“No offence. I didn’t want you knocking me up again. Nyx may be a one off but I don’t want to risk it anymore than we just did,” Meg said and he braced up onto his arms, ignoring how sticky he felt as well. There was something off in the way she was casually throwing this aside.

Meanwhile, it felt like Castiel's world was thrown off its axis with the strength of his disappointment and longing. It had happened too fast, too quick, for him to take the time to actually show her how much he’d longed for her. How much he wanted to prove that of all things, that hadn't changed.

“Meg, I…”

“Thanks for the warning though.” She made a face as she pulled her panties and jeans back up her legs. The wet feeling and still swollen sensation between her legs made it uncomfortable to move. “Fuck.”

  He closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to explain. “It has been over a year since I… since I touched another. I lost control.”

He regretted it the instant he let her know that tidbit of information. It would do no good to hide it but the urge to hurt her was so strong. The demon didn’t answer for a moment but then she shrugged and looked at him. “So. You… and a few others? Well, cookie for you.”

The flippant way she said that made his own sarcasm, learned mostly from her and Dean, flare. Castiel lay back and reached down to fix his pants, arching his back and making a point of not looking at her. “Are you jealous?”

She snorted. “Yeah right. I'm a demon, Castiel, and never forget that. You think I wasn’t screwing others after you mind-wiped me? Please.”

His head turned but she had her back to him, making it impossible to see if she lied to him. An unnatural cruel streak, that he’d learned he had even as a human, came back to him in his annoyance how she was trying to brush him aside. He had wanted her to know just how lonely he had felt and what he had suffered through, but now what he truly wanted was to hurt her as badly as she was hurting him.

So the words came tumbling out with no warning.

“There were times when I turned human when I needed others. I wasn’t prepared for biological urges at all. That first night between you and I, that was… different. What I felt then was different.”

Meg said nothing and Castiel didn't care.

“The first was a woman that I met when I was on the street. She was lonely. Like I was.”

He pillowed his head on his forearm and decided not to tell her everything about that night that had ended so badly. He still didn't like thinking how easily that rogue reaper had deceived him. Exhaling slowly, he thought about the past three years as he looked at the ceiling.

“There were other times. Even a pair of hunters I met. Forceful and I — well, they seduced me and I let them. Happily because I could feel something with them. The others were here and there, but after a while I gave up caring what was right, what was wrong. I stopped trying to care. When I regained my real Grace, I stopped searching for comfort because I didn't think I needed it.”

Meg still didn't respond and Castiel stopped talking, thinking that she just didn't care. But what he didn’t see was the way her face shuttered up as she thought about his words. Demons were possessive on the whole; loyal at times, cruel mostly always, and possessive to the point of war over things they wanted. She’d die before admitting that she had that streak to her.

The thought that he had erased her memory and then managed to continue on, as if she hadn't existed, stung badly to nerves already rubbed raw.

Castiel saw the way her muscles tensed and bunched as she shifted around, and he finally guessed what she was thinking, sensing that she wasn't as uncaring as she was pretending to be. That need to be cruel faded a little when he thought about how wrong her thoughts could be about him. Beyond that first time, Castiel had never told Dean or Sam the extent to which he had submitted to his loneliness, or about his struggle to fill the void with sex, alcohol and mindless attempts at sin.

He reached out, fingers just brushing her back, and he saw Meg flinch. “But there were times when I tried and I only thought of you. It made everything seem unsatisfying.”

“Yeah, don’t try to whitewash it, Castiel.” She stood up from the floor and finished buckling her belt. Castiel watched her and Meg stared down, for once looking so large and ominous to him.

“I didn’t like how being human made it necessary to seek another’s company,” he admitted. “I thought to be content to wait until there was a chance to see you again but somehow becoming human changed me.”

“I swear to Hell if you start blaming male biology,” she ground out and he caught her ankle in his hand. He kept her from moving as he sat up.

“Are you—?”

“Fine.”

“I hadn’t expected to tell you right now. It just came out.” He winced at the annoyed look on her face.

“Not like I didn’t do the same thing. The ones I with were good enough though,” she said just for cruelty's sake, deliberately misunderstanding him. “Helped me forget that something was wrong with me. That I’d been robbed of what I was.”

She saw the way his eyes narrowed at her and glared back. “Well, that was fun for you I'm sure. But we won’t be doing that again. Guess this just doesn’t live up to the memory of it, huh?”

That gave her the visible hurt she had wanted; she saw his eyes widen and then his mouth droop, an almost kicked-puppy look overtaking the stoic angel. Before he could stop her, she kicked her leg free and stalked out of the demon cell.

All of his self-loathing boiled over and Castiel did a supremely human thing by slamming his fist into the concrete floor. It cracked under the powerful blow, several fingers on his hand breaking and then resetting automatically, and he rolled to his stomach next. Focussing himself took longer than usual and he zapped himself to the dorm's bathroom to put himself to rights. He took a few minutes to fix his button-down shirt and his trousers, trying to wipe the smell of sex off his skin. His Grace did him no good in cleansing him of her. He even scrubbed at himself with hot water; no matter how it scalded and how hard he scrubbed, it didn’t seem to help him.

_Damn it, he could still taste her skin on his tongue._

Despite his affairs, nothing had ever lingered on him like this. They’d been faded memories. This strange imprint of sex and tension persisted and refused to be wiped clean from him.

_Why was this demon still so hard to get out from under his skin?_

_Why did he still want to keep her so close again?_

When Castiel came out after a long time of trying to get clean and calm, he forced himself not to just fly out of the building. Instead he headed for the common room stairs but a glance into the spare room let him see Meg trying to repair the damage done to her shirt with pins. Knowing he should keep moving, Castiel stopped and leaned against the doorway anyway. Meg's hair was still damp with sweat and her clothing patchy was with it, but on the outside she seemed calm.

When he saw her shaking hands, he wondered if something deeper was wrong.

“I’m sorry.” 

Her head turned a little. She took a deeper breath and relaxed, her hands going still. “Yeah. Me too.”

“You’re right. We can’t go back to how we were or how we could have been. But for Nyx, we need to protect her together. So for the sake of that, I will stay away from you. I think we know that being around each other... well, it is not a good idea.” He shifted onto his heels and turned to go. Meg didn't move and he looked over his shoulder at her. Castiel struggled to think of his time as a human, when he had learned to express himself so much better. But anything he thought of came up short. 

“I only— I missed you. Badly,” he said softly. She said nothing to that, just began to fix her shirt again. It made him uncomfortable just to watch her and he repeated, “Just let me try to protect Nyx and I’ll stay away from you.” 

Her head lifted a little. “Fine.”

She dismissed him with just that curt snap and he sighed. It served him right, he thought in self-disgust, to expect things to be healed with just a few words. Suddenly tired, he headed out to the common room and tried to ignore how disjointed he felt because of what had happened.

_What had just happened?_

In the common room, Dean raised his eyebrows at him from where he sat on the couch with Nyx and Sam, helping her eat the animal crackers as they watched cartoons. Castiel ignored his questioning look and sat down in another armchair to watch his daughter. She ignored them all and was muttering to some imaginary friend that the cartoon was out of order.

Castiel focussed on her, trying to keep from going back to Meg. He wanted to talk to her, fight with her, force her to see why he had done everything. Everything for her, for the angels, for Nyx, and for the Winchesters. He wanted to go back, trap her in the room with him and try to understand why they hadn’t been able to simply slide back to normalcy. He had wanted to cave in, beg for her mercy, give up his control just so he could feel that she was with him again.

But he had his chance to earn her trust and he felt as if he had lost her for taking such a risk.

He realized he was wearing his emotions too openly when Sam suddenly cleared his throat and he looked up to see the Winchester staring at him.

“Come on, Cas, we have to take a look at some things and Dean needs his rest.” Sam stood up, stretched, and then reached over to ruffle Nyx’s hair. “Keep an eye on Dean, okay?”

Nyx sleepily nodded and then shyly looked up at Castiel as well. Her expression was curious and the angel hesitated, but Sam’s tug on his arm made him turn around and follow.

~

She watched them go before turning to look at Dean skeptically. He looked back just as seriously at her and resisted the urge to smile at the way Nyx stared at him.

“You sick?”

“Yeah but it's not contagious,” Dean said calmly and Nyx looked confused.

“Con-tay-jess.”

“That’s a girl.” At least she was learning some words from him. He nodded back to the TV. “You like this cartoon?”

“Boring. Don't like this. Boring, boring, boring. Needs mud monkeys, my friends say.”

The absurd term, one he hadn’t heard in years and never would have expected from her, made Dean look at the little girl thoughtfully. “What friends?”

Nyx beamed at him. “Angels! Not bad angels that hurt. Nice ones.”

“That’s not a nice word to say, Nyx.”

“Why?”

“Because a bad angel said that to me once.”

“Why?”

“Because he wasn't nice and I'm not a monkey.”

Nyx poked him in the stomach as if testing him. “Not a monkey?”

“Well if you believe…” He remembered he was talking to a three year old. “No.”

“Good.” She leaned back. “Don’t like monkeys. ”

Dean sighed and flipped the channel to another cartoon channel. “Oh man, is your dad gonna have fun with you when you get to questioning everything about humans,” he muttered and as he listened to Nyx talk to her 'friends', he started to wonder if Nyx’s ‘imaginary friends’ were something far more than imaginary. He dismissed that as absurd. Kid had to have imaginary friends, he figured, since God knew she didn't have many others.

~~

Castiel wearily followed Sam to where Kevin was at the long table table. The two men began talking the second the prophet spotted Sam but Castiel’s thoughts were still revolving around what had just happened with Meg. He worried over it even as he stood behind Sam. Eyes on the door, he thought about leaving and going back to her.

“It’s the cure. We used regular demon blood but I think we needed something more,” Kevin was explaining. The word 'demon' caught his attention and Castiel blinked, glanced at Sam and realized he had missed the start of it. “Something… more powerful.”

“Like what? Crowley?” Sam asked. “Abaddon?”

“Like Meg. When we did those initial experiments years ago, we used Meg’s blood. Her blood balanced the holy water perfectly. We were surprised but we thought it meant every demon. Maybe it didn’t.”

“So we get Meg to donate.”

Castiel said nothing as he looked up at the stairwell.

“Cas? Earth to Cas? Think you can talk her into it? Or is she still pissed?”

_Not at you_ , Castiel thought. “Meg will do what she wants to do.”

“That’s a good point but that doesn’t tell us anything,” Sam said. “Still, we got bigger problems than me and Dean.”

Kevin looked at him. “Thought you two dying was a bad thing.”

“We've got monsters. Lots of ‘em by my guess.” Sam took a seat and reclined back. “I thought Dean was kidding when he said he saw a demon getting infected by a monster.”

“I was attacked by something like Eve.” Castiel shook his head. “I think. There was a demon in there with it.”

“God, that’s… not expected.” Kevin stood up and quickly grabbed his book, flipping through it. As Castiel took a seat beside Sam, he noticed the curious look he was being given.

“What?”

“How close did that monster get to you? Looks like he bit you,” Sam said, leaning in close and tapping Castiel’s skin where neck met shoulder.  The angel nervously flipped his collar up to hide the tiny bruise.

“Something like that.”

Sam stared at him. “Cas?”

“What?”

“I didn’t see him bite you.”

“Then it must have happened when…”

“Meg tripped and fell on your neck teeth first?” Sam asked sarcastically but he saw the anxious way Castiel swiped at his neck as if to rid himself of the imprint. “Whoa, wait. Seriously?”

“Shut up, Sam.”

The hunter looked impressed. “That was sudden, that’s all. When did it happen?” The way Castiel fidgeted and his eyes darted around made Sam's jaw drop a little. “Just now? God, we can’t leave you guys alone for a minute, huh?”

“It was hardly planned,” Castiel snapped. “I do not want to discuss it.”

Sam grinned. “You didn't do it in the archives again, did you?”

“What?” Castiel’s gaze snapped to him but Sam had already turned to Kevin, who was holding up a new book. 

“So what are you thinking?” Sam asked, eyes twinkling as Castiel continued to fidget beside him and touch the bruise Meg had left on him.

“You said that Eve could infect humans. But Cas said the monster was riding alongside a demon in a meatsuit.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Then why was this ‘Eve thing’ infecting a demon? They never bothered before.”

Angel and human looked equally confused. “I… that is something I don’t know,” Castiel admitted. “I never thought they would even attempt it unless they’ve evolved.”

“Which means they evolved in Purgatory.”

“It explains why they were invading Hell as well. It wasn’t just to get Eve. Eve was there and maybe she wasn’t really dead. The monster souls were learning how to adapt to what demons thrive in. Hell,” Castiel said.

“Means she’s got some hardcore vengeance planned for the demons, I bet,” Sam finished. “I can’t think of anyone who would know an answer to what the hell goes on in Purgatory right now.”

“So maybe we need answers from Purgatory's side,” Dean’s voice, now strong, cut in and they all turned to see him walking in. Castiel glanced behind him and he shook his head. “She’s okay, Cas. Meg said she wanted to spend some time with her.” He ignored the way the angel looked irritably at the stairwell. “So what do you think?”

“Purgatory is almost impossible to get into. Unless you pull a soul back out.” Castiel looked up at the ceiling struts. “And I don’t think that that is the most viable idea. If a monster comes back out, they may work for Eve or this Adam.”

“Then we chain ‘em down. Or we get one out that we can trust.”

Sam narrowed his eyes a little. “Dean.”

“Sam, I’m just thinking aloud, is all.” 

“We can’t bring him back. It’s not what he would want.”

“We’re running out of options on what people want, Sam. We can send him right back if we have to.”

“This is a bad idea,” Castiel said, catching on.

“Who are we talking about?” Kevin asked curiously, looking between them all.

“Benny. Dean’s vampire buddy who—,” Sam began.

“He saved Sam’s life and mine, and even Castiel’s,” Dean cut in, glowering at the angel when he saw him looking ready to say something. “And we need help to figure this out.”

“You guys don’t have any other monster buddies?” Kevin asked, confused and Dean gave him a weak smile.

“None that are alive anyway.”

The prophet gave a low whistle. “Nice.”

“I do not like this,” Castiel reinforced and something hardened within Dean’s expression. To Sam it looked like he was assuming command.

“You worry about angels, I’ll worry about monsters. Capiche?”

Angel and hunter glared at one another for a while until Castiel finally looked away. “Very well.”

~~

_Maine…_

Eve walked slowly over the pathway through the forest, revelling in the soft soil beneath her feet and the way it felt to be... well... alive once again. Death hadn’t come easy for her and she didn’t quite understand why he hadn’t reaped her fully. Maybe an answer like that would come in time.

A religious human would claim it was God’s will. Eve merely laughed at the notion. It was not God who had raised her.

It was her children.

“Mother.” The call caught her attention away from the sight of the trees and the campfires in the distance and she spun slowly on her heel. Her body was still healing, her stomach nearly completely closed now so her unborn could stay protected until she could call them to life. Two of her most recent converts, variations of werewolves who were born of demon-possessed humans, knelt. What caught her eye though was that between them was something very new to her newly claimed home.

An angel inside a female vessel. Battered and bruised but oh so righteous. She could smell its cleanliness like a tang in the air.

“The last time I saw one of your kind,” she said for a greeting and she knelt in front of her. “I was tasting Phoenix ash.”

“Mother, we caught her for you,” one of the monsters growled.

Maybe she had been a bit too liberal in her creation. She didn’t like how needy these ones were for approval. “Caught her? Where?”

“Searching for the angel Castiel, she said. She said she was to wait for him to return here. She killed the others.” They were copies of real monsters but the slow decay of two souls in their bodies was forcing the bodies to change faster, distorting the voice so it kept rising and falling in pitches. The ear-grating sound made Eve promise to perfect them further.

“Was she now?” Reaching down, she lifted the angel’s chin so she could look in her eyes. “What is your name?”

“Malel.”

“Why were you searching for your brother? I want to see him as well,” Eve said, stroking her face. The angel was shaking in fear. Eve was not as powerful as she had been years ago but it was still enough for such a small soldier as this to feel the sheer threat of the Mother of All. She couldn’t even disappear when in Eve’s presence.

“We have our orders to survey him.”

“Why?” Eve traced her jawline. “Answer me.”

The angel’s shaking was steadily getting worse. “Please, no.”

“Mm.” Her oddly coloured eyes fixed on the Malel’s face. “You are hiding something from me. That is unfortunate.”

Before she could continue, Eve's own body did a visible jerk. She could feel her other self moving through the South, looking for prey and conveying emotion and knowledge to her. The Winchesters would pay and her other self would see to it, she knew he would. It would be so easy to let him loose to find the angel as well.

Eve felt the change in the air and shook her head to clear it of her other self's mind-link.

“Maybe you should ask me,” said a new voice, male and low, “why I asked her to hunt Castiel.”

The monsters growled and she lifted her eyes to see a young man standing in front of her. His face shifted between two looks, one of age and one of youth, but his eyes were what held her. She was used to even stranger sights than a face that could be both old and yet young. But she had never seen such yellow eyes before.

“Who are you?”

He shrugged. “There’s no real answer to that anymore. One of us will win, eventually.”

The riddle didn't stop Eve from studying his face. She could see the lines of Grace but woven just as tightly around them was the twisted darkness of a demon. The sort of thing she had never seen before and she dismissed it as a trick of the forest shadows. That he didn’t fear her at all was enough to make her unsteady nature threaten to erupt. But instead she took a deep breath and kept herself calm.

“I could kill you for the answer.”

“There’s no fun in that,” he countered neatly and leaned forward. “I’m sure you’ve felt it. Smelt it even.” She stood and he walked around her. The lack of concern he walked with, as if he knew he had something she wanted, should have been goading but she simply stood, absently smiling at the shadows instead of showing him how he already annoyed her. “I’m merely here to offer you an opportunity for you and your kind.”

“Are you?” Eve turned a little towards him. “Why would I need the help of an angel?”

“Because I am far more than that, Mother of All. I’m like you. Two in one. It’s a tragedy.” His smirk was cool and he arched his eyebrows at the two monsters close by. “I see you are already infecting the demons.”

“Sooner or later, all of them will be with us.” Eve reached out and touched his face, feeling the ice cold texture of it. “So why shouldn’t I do the same to you?”

“Because you can’t touch the angels the way you can the demons. You can only use things with full souls with this new trick of yours. The venom can turn humans but I think you are using monster souls to warp the demons further. Making something new. So here I am. I can offer you a deal.” He grinned at the way she finally looked interested. “Have any of your children told you about a demon bearing a child?”

“A Cambion? Hardly unique. They are nothing more than mutated demons,” she said, waving her hand as she walked away from him. The angel still on the ground was watching the interplay with confusion.

The other one watched Eve walk away. “No. Not a Cambion. Something far more blasphemous. This demon’s child is sired by an angel. I think you know him, don’t you? Castiel.”

That stopped her in her tracks and she turned around. “That is impossible.”

“Anything is possible. This is a brand new creation. Something only God himself would have a hand in. Can you imagine the possibilities?” he asked and her eyes glinted, making him grin. “I want the demon called Meg. She has other names but that is the one you’ll find her by. I can’t get to her myself, with Heaven lingering over my head and Castiel now anticipating my moves. I failed the last time and I can’t summon her either.”

“What is the deal?” There was no mistaking the eagerness in her voice.

“I want the keys to the Lethe and I am sure that the demon has them inside that mind of hers. You can kill the whelp for all I care. An equal trade. You take the child, I take the mother.”

Eve stared at him. “I have no reason to trust you.”

“Imagine what you could find,” he offered, wheedling her, “if you learned what was in that child’s blood, her soul? Failing that, it would at least give you the opportunity to get your revenge on Castiel.”

He grinned and tried to hide the open treachery behind that statement. He wouldn’t let her have Meg or her daughter, not really. But he needed her power and her ability to distract.

Eve, on the other hand, had no intention of letting him have the demon if she had created Life. She had learned from her last dealings to never trust something that smelt of angel or demon. This one was a perverted twist of a creature and he smelt of infected Grace. He wasn’t natural.

“Deal,” they said in unison and she smiled, backing off.

“Brother, what have you done?” the angel kneeling begged and he smiled, crouching down. An angel sword came to his hand and he stroked it down her chest.

“I’m fulfilling God’s will, one way or another. Can you imagine how it could be? If we turned his will, his divine plan, into something for us?”

Her mouth opened in shock as he slipped the blade deep into her body and twisted hard to the left. Buried to the hilt, the sword vibrated the instant it struck her heart and her eyes turned white as light poured out of her eyes and mouth. He hummed as the Grace burned out of her and watched her slump over.

“No, I guess you can’t.”

 

 


	6. Horizons (When Angels Believe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The Winchesters try to formulate a plan to find out what Adam and Eve are up to. Settling into a tense stalemate, Castiel and Meg work to make deals to save Nyx, unaware of the trap that might be springing around them.

Spells to revive monsters from Purgatory were not simple and, as Sam's research found, would take the right amount of time and ingredients to let the spell gain power. It took a week to find what they needed, with Castiel using quick trips out to the city limits to distract the angels no doubt watching them. That he hadn't seen a single angel hanging around the bunker didn't mean that he would let his guard down.

If Michael had known Meg was alive, that she was here, then the other Garrisons would be able to find her just as easily.

Determined to protect them all, Castiel made sure that wards were burned into the bunker walls for protection from angels and demons alike. Midweek, Dean and Sam made a fast trip they had ever made to Louisiana to recover Benny's bones from where Dean had buried them.

It was really too quiet, both brothers thought, sharing that idea in their minds with uncomfortable clarity. There were no reports from Garth about monsters or demons attacking humans for days now, and not even a sign of angels after that night.

It was likely a sign of how they lived their lives that peace made them more anxious than running for their lives.

Forced to relax during the week by Sam and Castiel, Dean turned to his usual sarcastic humour to deflect how tired he still felt, while Sam retreated into his far too easygoing way of dealing with his brother. Neither could deny that as much as Dean's heart attack had affected them, the tension from the others living in the bunker made it seem like their problems seem happy by comparison.

Kevin kept to himself, still grieving and angry that he had hunters and angels on his side but no one knew how to bring his mother's killer to justice. No one except a demon had seemed to care and he devoted his time instead to deciphering old notes he had kept on the tablets and trying to hide from the visions he was suddenly being gifted with.

" _The kid needs a break, time to grieve," Dean said to Sam one night._

_"I think if he did… he might break down," was the only answer Sam had for his brother._

Castiel watched them all and knew he should try to let himself be more concerned about both Kevin and the Winchesters. He had time as he worked to find the spell Dean had asked for. But he kept silent, hovering, just inside the shadows and quietly waiting.

He hadn't realized how hard it would be living near Meg and keeping his promise to stay away when at the same time he wanted that companionship they had once had.

They'd spent days ignoring each other, awkwardly passing in the halls and barely speaking more than a few words. The one or two times he had forgotten himself and spoken to her, Meg had answered but she sounded off, as if she wanted to say something more but wouldn't let herself. She was preoccupied and it was so unlike her that when she wasn't looking he would watch her more.

Nyx didn't seem to sense their tension but how she treated Castiel was similar to Meg. Distant and at times even untrusting. She played her games by herself or spent time around Kevin and often the prophet eventually gave in and read to her. At night, if Castiel chose to watch over her, she simply bundled herself up and slept.

It had been a few weeks and Castiel knew he was expecting too much but he couldn't help it. Nyx was confused, he could feel it. He felt stabs of envy when he saw Sam and Dean getting her laughing or smiling. Around them she was happy. Around Meg she still had a bit of fear but more often than not she latched on to her. With him… distance.

Dean had asked him what he could expect after forcing them to separate? After seeing scary things that a child her age could barely understand?

Castiel was aware he'd been naive in hoping maybe things would change quickly. Meg seemed anxious and spent hours in the library, practicing small spells and forcing herself to gather her strength. Always in the shadows, he felt the gradual change in her as she finally regained that power she had once had three years ago.

He could only hope that maybe this time if he moved slowly they could find their way back to at least being comfortable around each other. The one thing he had learned as a human had been that when the situation called for patience, he had to wait. Hundreds of half-starts and messy introductions had made him learn that even if he returned as an angel, it didn't mean he could run into things blindly.

He had been so eager to find his way back to Meg that he had forgotten that.

It was only just as the week passed into the next that he noticed how sometimes Nyx stayed closer to him than before and no longer seemed to pull away when he spoke to her. A few times he had felt her touch his hand to try to hold it but he wasn't sure what she wanted. But then she would be off playing or drawing or bothering Meg.

Castiel was so caught up in being alone that he missed how Meg started to watch him in return.

* * *

_Purgatory…_

The white-wash sky was flexing.

That was really the only way Benny could describe it as he stood in the middle of the spring and looked up. His latest victory was under his feet: a werewolf that had attacked him despite his warning that this was his territory and now he stood over it, one foot on the back of its neck. It was drowning in the water and he could feel it pitching and heaving as it struggled to fight for air. Looking back down, he lifted his bone-axe up in the air and swung down like a golfer making a drive. The head popped clean off, sailing through the air and landing in the pile of bodies that he'd been collecting since making this area his home.

Monster golf, Benny thought wryly. What would Dean think about him playing golf using monster heads? He never had much taste for the sport but in Purgatory he had to make his own forms of entertainment.

Grinning, he hefted the werewolf out of the water and tossed it onto the shore.

"You know," he said as he sat down next to the still twitching corpse. "I was never one for games but you wolves? You make things all matter of fun."

He looked up at the sky again.

"You'd think you'd all learn, one way or another."

Benny tugged his cap down over his eyes and leaned back on his elbows. The stench of blood and sweat would eventually bring the others here and he needed to rest for a while. But damn, Benny still grinned to himself, it was still fun. It had been a while since he'd been so amused by something like this.

A flicker of light danced overhead and he lifted his brim to see that the sky was changing. For a moment, it seemed like that it was actually dipping towards him until the sky was bowed and too close to him. The air itself felt electric, more than it ever had in his long years in Purgatory. Beneath him, the ground suddenly rumbled and he scrambled to his feet, eyes darting over the surface as if expecting it to split apart. But whatever had moved the ground hadn't affected the water. There wasn't even a ripple across the quiet surface.

It was the sudden cold trickle down his spine that made the vampire aware that things were happening that he couldn't control. Benny felt a strange tug, like a rope coiled around him had begun to tighten. The pressure started at the base of his feet, travelled up his body and centred in the pit of his stomach, and his body felt as if it was slowly and methodically being squeezed. Baring his fangs, he spun and looked suspiciously around the clearing for a new threat.

The burning numbness going through his fingers and toes felt suspiciously familiar. He hadn't felt this way in years, like he was being drawn through a tiny pin hole with meticulous care, inch by tiny inch.

"What are you doin' up there?" he muttered, crouching down and touching the dirt. It no longer felt real to him and the earth beneath his feet seemed to be buckling up to meet the bending sky. When he looked up, he could only see a dark smoky vortex coming for him, and spiralling flashes of light darted in the air and curling around his body. It felt like every limb was trapped by chains of fire.

Agony sliced through him and in the next heartbeat he was thrown from Purgatory into a dark void.

* * *

_Lebanon, Kansas…_

"I am still not certain that this is a good idea," Castiel muttered as Dean struck a match. shrugged and held it over the bowl they'd put at the head of the corpse on the ground.

"You keep saying that, Cas, but we're still doing it. Sam? Ready to give it another go?"

Sam gave Castiel a sympathetic look and began reading the spell Kevin had crafted for them. The angel rolled his eyes as Sam continued the Latin chanting and Dean tossed the match into the bowl and signalled Castiel to lay his hand on one of the rotted limbs. The flames suddenly whooshed upward and licked at the sides of the metal, and Sam finished his last stanza. The fire was boiling the herbs and the small amount of blood they had managed to bargain from a young virgin witch, (Dean hadn't explained how he had done that and Castiel hadn't asked) and the bowl began to glow with unholy orange light. Overturning the bowl, Castiel let the flames go over the decayed body they had laid out, the liquefied contents dripping over the skull. The flames ate at the bones and the bloody herbs, and then with a flash they extinguished.

They all felt the shift of the soul being ripped free from Purgatory when the air seemed to grow hot and Castiel could actually smell the change it made in the park. Something rancid yet earthy overwhelmed the odours of fresh cut grass and rain.

It had taken a few attempts and a little bit of his Grace to force the spell to function, but Castiel knew it was working now. He guessed that because Dean possessed Benny's bones and Eve was out of Purgatory, this seemed easier than before; if Eve had found a way, then she was managing to keep the doorways a bit more open than ever before.

"What are we going to do with a monster again?" he asked, unable to hide his annoyance as he released the finger bone he held. The corpse was rebuilding sinewy muscle and veins were beginning to reappear.

Dean stood on the other side of Benny's body with Sam and he noticed the look Castiel was irritably shooting the reforming corpse.

"Double agent if we're lucky. We need some news, Cas. We can't do this just with ourselves. They'll see us coming miles away." Dean smirked at him. "Come on. I know Benny; he'll be happy to help."

"Maybe," Castiel paused. "I thought the same of Meg when I pulled her free from her afterlife."

Both Winchesters wisely said nothing to that but it did cause Sam to shoot Dean an apprehensive look.

They watched the body quietly, Castiel's power mixing with the black magic to slowly recreate it. Within the clothing they had put the bones into, flesh began to fill out the material until it looked like there was a true human body in there again. The crack of broken bones meeting and coming together, the pop of forming muscles, the low the smell of burning hair and flesh; all of it spoke of resurrection in the strangest way. With a snarl and hiss, light glowed over the body and as it settled, they saw his chest rise and fall slowly when the soul began to take its body back.

Covering his nose, Sam stepped back from the body and tried not to choke at the smell of a reanimated corpse.

When the body shifted on its own and the breathing came out deep and slow, Dean leaned down and smiled as two familiar eyes fluttered opened. Benny blinked up at him in bewilderment, the wild glaze in his eyes searching for something.

"Good morning, starshine," Dean encouraged.

The loud roar of the vampire attacking startled everyone and before Sam or Castiel could react, Benny jerked up and grabbed Dean by the throat. The hunter choked on a cry as he was yanked under the vampire and the thick fingers closed off his windpipe. Despite his fighting instincts, he remembered to go limp in case struggling set Benny off worse; he remembered his own feelings of disorientation and fear at being pulled out of Hell and Purgatory. Letting Benny slam his head into the dirt, he held the hands on his throat and tried to ignore how the ache in his chest worsened from the pressure of Benny's weight on him.

The vampire's fangs bared and he hissed, smelling human blood, a smell he hadn't had in years and suddenly hungered for.

Before he could lower his head, Castiel grabbed him by the back of his coat and hauled him off.

The vampire was still too weak from his revival to fight with the strength of an angel. The feel of Grace threatening him made him ready to fight all the harder until he hazily realized he was too weak to do damage. Cursing colourfully, Benny twisted against the arm wrapped around his throat.

"Benny, come on, man, calm down," Dean croaked out and the vampire shook his head repeatedly. "Calm down!"

The familiar voice cut through Benny's bloodlust and he realized who he was staring down at. Dean pushed up onto his elbows and wiped at his bloody mouth.

"Dean?" Benny glanced to his left and saw Sam standing close by, ready to help Castiel. "Sam? What in Hell is going on?"

Behind him, the hold loosened just enough that he could suck in deep lungfuls of air.

"Calm down," Castiel's low voice ordered in his ear. "We're not going to harm you."

Slowly, fang by fang, Benny's teeth sheathed themselves and he turned his head a little. "Auntie?"

Castiel flinched at the nickname and loosened the grip on his neck completely. "Hello, Benny."

"Thought it was you, angel." The vampire inhaled once and then looked at Castiel over his shoulder. "But why do you smell like a demon?"

Sam hid a grin as Castiel let Benny go and stepped back. When no one was looking, Castiel looked at his hands and wondered how a vampire could still smell Meg on his skin when he was sure the lingering odours of sex and sweat would be long gone by now.

Benny swayed on his feet, head shaking back and forth as he tried to clear his vision, and looked around the small park. Inhaling deeply, he smelt the burnt circle, the herbs and the blood of the ritual. He rocked back and forth on his heels and shook his head again. Everything in his body just seemed to hurt and the numbness leaving his limbs was only making the ache of recently reset bones throb.

It took him several minutes of walking around and staring at the night sky to figure out what had happened and when he did, he growled deeply in his throat in irritation. Fixing the fit of his coat over his broad shoulders, he cracked his neck loudly and focussed on Dean.

"So tell me, why the light show? All this effort for little ol' me?"

"Good to see you too, Benny," Dean said with a wry grin, holding out his hand. But the vampire ignored it and walked slowly around the ritual area again. He walked a little drunkenly, a sway to his step that betrayed his hunger and confusion, while his fingers traced over the closest tree as if to force himself to realize that this was real.

"Not that I mind a wake up call, but what the hell am I doing here?" Benny asked, eyes pinning Dean in his place.

"We need your help."

"Never thought I might be all 'helped out'. Helped you out last time, didn't I? With Sam here. All I wanted was to go back because I didn't fit here anymore. And now? You dragged me away from my home."

"How is Purgatory, Benny?" Dean asked as he watched his friend lean against the tree for support.

Benny's eyes were fixed on his face, jaw tight and eyes narrow and small with anger. "Nice. Carved myself out a sweet piece of territory I was pretty happy guardin'. Until now." He stepped towards the Winchesters. "So I'm goin' to ask you again. Why am I here?"

The fact that his fangs descended in primitive warning made Dean put his hand on his gun holster.

"Eve is back in this world," Castiel said suddenly before Dean or Sam could think up a lie.

Something closed off in Benny's deep set eyes and he stepped back, teeth fixing themselves completely until he seemed human again. He dusted at his sleeves as if it consumed his time and said too casually, "Is she now? How nice."

"Not nice. She's bound to do some real damage," Dean explained.

"Well now. Can't see how I should care. I told you I don't fit." Benny looked up at Castiel. "Send me back, will you?"

Castiel glared at him. "Dean wanted you here."

"I don't do happy reunions all that well anymore." The vampire crossed his feet at the ankles and rested heavily against the tree. "You pulled me out of a place I was resigned to bein' in — hell I was _happy_ there—, and expect me to be happy about that? You've been readin' too many romance stories, boys."

The angel looked at Dean. "Now do you realize what I meant earlier?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't look so damn smug," Dean grumbled. "Besides, this is nothing like Meg's thing."

"Meg?" Benny looked at Castiel. "What? You found another vampire or something?"

"Hardly. Dean knows how I feel about remaining close to monsters," he countered.

"All right, knock it off," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "You're the only one we can ask for help in this. Did you see anything in Purgatory?"

"Saw plenty." Benny stretched his arms. "Monsters invadin' Hell, Mother of All becomin' a veritable Frankenstein, leavin' Purgatory, monsters gatherin'. You ask, I saw it. But you didn't just want a report, did you?"

"We think they are after us."

"Lucky you."

"Among other things. They are going to do some real damage if we don't stop them," Dean said. "That's why I need your help. I know you, Benny, I know you wouldn't be one of those monsters to watch innocent people die."

The vampire looked ready to say something, but changed his mind and shrugged. "So I come in as a double agent, I take it? You boys must be real hard up."

"We need to get a feel for what she and the others could do," Sam interrupted and Benny squinted at them all.

"A feel? You faced her before. What's more to 'feel'?"

Castiel folded his arms over his chest. "She's been divided."

The vampire looked at him as if he'd spoken another language. "Say again?"

"Divided. We were attacked a week ago, by a monster who claimed to be part of her. From what that monster said to me, Eve has been divided. The way that the Leviathan or some other monster would do."

"Leviathan." Benny's eyes gleamed viciously. "They aren't back are they?" His head tilted. "Wouldn't make much sense for them to be here. The ones back in Purgatory had their territory a long ways away and I always heard there was no love lost between them. Eve hated them a long time ago and she holds her grudges."

The humans both knew what he meant and Castiel uncomfortably remembered the hate in Adam's eyes. Whatever Adam and Eve were going to do, it would be devastating.

"So what do you say? Feel like workin' with us again?" Dean asked when it was clear Benny wasn't going to continue and after a while the vampire looked at him.

"No. Kill me now."

Something fell in Dean's face. "Benny, come on."

"I was happy there, Dean. You knew that. Ain't no place for me here and there never will be."

"I need your help here. Then the first chance I get, I'll send you back, I swear. I just need some answers, man, because we're going to be fighting blind and there's a lot at stake. I'd rather have you at my back than any other vamp I know."

That hit Benny in a sensitive place that the vampire wasn't comfortable admitting he had. The fact that someone actually trusted him and didn't see him as a mindless monster had always been the sucker-punch to end all sucker-punches. Benny sucked in a deep breath, letting it whistle between his teeth. "Oh boy, you and the favours, Dean."

He shrugged. "Hell, when do we start?"

* * *

 _"I heard the mission bell."_ A low moan accented the song's intricate guitar work and the man humming along to the song bobbed his head in time to the drumbeat as he cut a little deeper. Another moan, more guttural and agonized, kept harmony with the singer's voice.

_"And I was thinking to myself."_

"I never took the time to appreciate the classics when I was with _her._ Now? Well, I like this."

" _This could be Heaven or this could be Hell."_

The radio was playing loudly in the old barn to block out the sound of screams and moans coming from an old cattle stock. Strapped within its metal frame, splayed with arms bound to the top and legs spread eagled, the demon that had inhabited the farmer's body whimpered for mercy. The torturer came out of the shadows and leaned down so close that he filled the demon's blurry vision. "It is amazing."

A deep cut was slashed into the demon's throat and he began to choke on his own tongue while Adam hummed and sank in his fingers deep into to the gash. He still carried on the tune as he began find the soft spots of nerves and muscle and dug in just to see the demon try to smoke out. But the wards painted on the demon's body made it next to impossible for it to escape its meatsuit.

"How you parasites managed to survive—" He twisted hard and scooped out black blood and muscle, causing the demon to howl in agony. Clamping down his hand over the demon's mouth and turning the bearded face to the side, he shushed the demon so he could continue. "I will never know. What are you, without your masters? Without these humans you steal? Useless, that's what."

Adam settled down close to the demon and behind him the strange beasts that had once been werewolves were still prowling. They could no longer change back into their human forms, forced to stay in their more monstrous confines due to the venom coursing through them. Unable to turn his head away, the demon stared at them and whimpered as one roared and cried in agony as the venom continued to increase its hold on the monster.

The monster holding onto him noticed his interest.

"It is rebuilding them as pure monsters. Pure blood actually kept pure. Not tainted." Adam rolled his shoulders back and reached into his pocket for something. "Which is more than you demons can claim."

He leaned forward and held up a tiny gooey ball that glowed with unearthly light.

"Do you know what is happening to you right now?"

The demon twitched, eyes begging for him to kill it as the venom began to change the soul as much as the body.

"You possess humans so very easily. A simple snatch of control. Even angels need permission of their vessel but you? You invade and you strip them of control." Adam stroked his fingers over an open and infected wound and gently he began to push the glowing ball inside. "You get into their bodies and you shove the souls into a corner."

The demon squirmed as the monster's fingers started to dig deep into the tissue.

"You ride the body and steal it. You leech from them." Adam leaned close and licked a drop of blood from the demon's gaping wound, moaning in pleasure at what he tasted. "The Mother and I? We learned from that so we're going to return the favour. Monsters from deep in purgatory are souls much stronger than yours because of their wildness. The Mother has been incubating them for a very long time and they are eager to be free. Even let me have several to reproduce in this body myself." He sank his fingers in and ripped just to listen to the demon's howl. "You are going to experience it all."

He twisted and as he did the pain awoke the monster's soul he had set within the demon. It fed off the demon's pain, off the strange infection he'd injected, and he chuckled at its screams.

"Every."

The artery sprayed outward in a bloody shower.

"Single."

The monster already assuming control howled and healed itself using the demon's power.

"Moment."

Adam let it go and smirked as he watched the monster soul take over and the weak demon soul be overwhelmed. Leaning forward, he brushed his tongue against the bloody neck to clean it.

" _They stab it with their steely knives, But they just can't kill the beast."_

"How does it feel?" he asked and the demon still inside the meatsuit whimpered as the monster's twisting of its soul began to reach its agonizing crucible. It wrapped and writhed, one soul feeding off of the other until they were almost one. Then, slowly, the demon submitted to the possession and Adam watched Eve's newest creation be born.

* * *

The walk back to the bunker from the park took longer than they expected as Benny kept stopping and staring around himself with a look of some wonder, as if he couldn't really believe he was here. The vampire had never expected to be out of Purgatory again. He'd never thought to feel something other than the wildness of his home and the strange stasis it was constantly in.

Keeping pace beside him, Dean noticed when his friend stopped and tilted his head back. Castiel and Sam both watched him warily as he hung back with Benny and he waved them on. Like Benny, he understood what it was to escape such a place.

The vampire stared up at the dawning sky with its slowly fading stars and he sighed deeply, not looking away even when Dean cleared his throat.

"You know, never thought I'd miss the real stars." He waved a hand through the air. "Purgatory just has that haze, you know? You don't miss much; but the stars? Those are things to look for." He ran his tongue over his teeth, clicked it once, and then looked over to Dean. His frown deepened. "Just noticed that you don't look so great, Dean."

"Getting older, that's all." Dean was aware of Sam and Castiel slowing down even more and he rolled his eyes. Neither of them understood why he saw something worth trusting in Benny, and Sam had been acting almost motherly over him for the past week. It was actually good to focus on something else other than his heart.

"You have that hospital smell still clingin' to you." Benny stopped and reached down to his leg where the resetting bone still ached. "What happened?"

"Heart attack," Dean snapped.

The vampire stared at him curiously, seeing the weary lines and almost greyish skin. All he said was a quiet, "Sorry to hear it."

"Yeah, so was I. But I never thought I'd live long enough to get one."

"That's something, I guess." Benny looked at him and then at Sam who kept looking over his shoulder at. "I take it that's why your baby brother is lookin' like a mother hen right now?"

Dean gave him a small smile in answer and he shrugged. "That's why we need your help. There's been a lot happening and with the monsters, we don't know what to expect. You can go places we can't to find information. We want to save as many lives as possible and you're the best I can have helping from that side."

Benny folded his arms over his chest. "You just have to remember one thing, Dean," he said, throaty voice dropping as he passed the hunter. "You can't be disappointed when people fail you because you put such standards on them."

"You're saying I expect too much of you?" Dean demanded.

"No. I'm sayin' you let yourself believe that when people fail they are doin' it to you personally, and not themselves. Can't wait to see what happens if I don't live up to that." Benny bared his fangs a little and it caused his accent to trip around. "Take Sam. No wonder that little brother of yours is so scared of failin' ya that he's hanging around like a lost puppy if you get sick. You'd hold it over his head for a lifetime and then that'll kill him worse than a good old vamp bite."

Without making a sound, Dean grabbed him by the back of his collar and hauled him back as he crushed him up against a tree. Benny hissed but the knife pressed at his throat kept him from attacking in defence. In the distance, Castiel turned around and watched but didn't interfere. Dean could feel his own weakness and let his anger get the better of him to hide it.

"Let's just get one thing clear, Benny. You might be a friend and I'm gonna owe you. But Sam and I are off limits for you to talk about, you got it?"

They stared at each other for a long moment before Benny nodded.

"Crystal clear, Dean." The fangs receded.

"Good. Come on, you need to meet at least one of the reasons why we're on the run. Before she gets bored and runs off."

* * *

Without Castiel or the Winchesters, parts of the bunker were too quiet now and Meg had little else she could do but wander and read. Nyx was always up at the crack of dawn anyway and had already eaten and gone to bother Kevin, and, needing a break, Meg had let her. The fact that the demon didn't sleep didn't make waiting much easier. If she wasn't walking, she was stuck researching or trying to find some way to occupy her time. If only she could actually leave.

The only thankful part of this was that she hadn't seen Castiel since Dean and Sam had taken him out for the night. They'd all been so damn mysterious for the past week anyway and she didn't know what they were all planning. The only thing she had noticed had been the pile of bones they had carried out very carefully. The fact that she and Castiel had agreed not to really talk to each other had made it hard for her to learn anything else. She suspected he was up to something with the hunters but when weren't they up to something?

Knowing her luck, whatever they had planned would see her killed.

Meg shrugged, eyed the clock on the wall, and decided that maybe it was worth taking a look outside after all. If they had gone, then demons and angels weren't likely hanging around still. She could get some fresh air, leave Nyx with Kevin, and see what the hell two hunters and an angel were doing with a pile of rotted bones.

One hand dangling the empty bottle she had stolen from Kevin hours before, she rounded the corner to the front of the bunker and smacked into a thick chest. The bottle dropped from her hand and a tall, broad-shouldered man smoothly caught it. His deep-set eyes glinted as he fixed himself up straight to stare down at her. Meg stared back and saw the small smirk he flashed her

"Easy there, darlin'. Don't want to be smashin'…." He stopped as he really looked at her.

Meg inhaled, found a scent and a faint quiver in the air that was familiar, at the same time his eyes were on her face and he inhaled as well. There was a low rumble like a bear from his chest and then she saw vampire fangs begin to show as her own eyes went black in reaction. They launched for each other, his elbow catching her side, and she slammed her knee into his stomach. Surprised by the strength in her tiny body, he couldn't get a grip on her wriggling and Meg threw him up against the wall, the knife she always kept on her now slashing out towards his throat.

"Meg! Meg, no!" Dean shouted suddenly and Sam caught her arm at the elbow. "He's a friend."

"He's a vampire!" she snapped and he hissed at her, not intimidated by the knife. Sam tried to pull her off until her elbow clocked him in the jaw and she felt another arm wrap around her waist and drag her off.

"He's a friend," Castiel said in her ear, other hand around her wrist. He squeezed until she was forced to drop the knife and she grunted at the pain his grip caused. Once Sam had the knife, he loosened his hand just a little and the arm around her waist kept pulling her back until she was no longer close to Benny.

"He's a…"

"Vampire." Dean passed her and made sure he was between them. "We got that, yeah."

Meg's expression was incredulous as she stared at him.

"You are all working with monsters now?" she demanded and tried to squirm free but Castiel held her still, murmuring for her to calm down. "You complained about working with me!"

"He's got a better track record than you do," Dean said with a mocking smirk.

"Oh that is such a—" As if realizing who was holding her, she stopped and turned in Castiel's arms, shoving at his chest. "Let me go!" He released her and put his hands in the air passively. Meg glowered at him and then turned to face Benny. "A vampire."

Benny sneered at her.

"If it is worth anything, I didn't think hunters and an angel would be hangin' around a demon now."

They glared at each other, but it was Benny who looked away first. Dean watched them both for any sign they were going to relaunch at each other's throats, waiting until Meg's fists unclenched before he moved around her and clapped his hand on Benny's arm. "Come on. I'll show you in."

Benny let the hunter lead him, aware of Meg staring him down as they headed down the hallway. "So whose pet project is she?"

" _She_ is gonna chop into your thick neck if you act like _she's_ not here," Meg snapped and Dean got between them again as Benny stopped and faced her.

"She's with Cas," he explained and thought he heard her teeth grind together.

"No, she's not," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "And she is going to leave."

Dean was aware of being pushed back and Meg was blocked from leaving. "No, you're not," Castiel ordered and when she glared at him he met it with his own stoic stare. Catching the way they were looking at each other, Benny cleared his throat.

"So if she's not with the Auntie angel, then...?"

"She's with us. We have a-" Sam paused as he passed them. "I don't know what to call it."

"A deal?"

"Right."

"Sounds shady to me. All things considering you are makin' deals with demons." Benny gestured at Meg as she walked ahead of them. The demon shoved by Castiel, looking annoyed as they came into the main room where stacks of books littered the table. "Wait, she is what you are protecting?"

"Among other things." Dean turned to Meg. "So how much research did Kevin get done?"

"Do I look like a babysitter to you? I've been keeping busy since I can't leave this dump." She waved her hand at the stairs. "Nyx was upstairs with him."

"You're leaving her alone now?" Sam asked.

"Trust me, she's not leaving Kevin anytime soon. She's safe," Meg muttered.

"I'll find him," Dean said and though Sam took a seat he gave his brother a stern look.

"You should be resting."

"All the rest in the world isn't going to solve this. I'll see who is upstairs," Dean snapped, grumbling as he went up the stairs that he didn't need a babysitter. Meg watched him go and then glanced over at Castiel. Ignoring her, the angel leaned back against a shelf and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked up at the ceiling.

"So. This is wonderful awkward," the vampire said. He held out his hand to Meg. "Might as well be polite if we have to be in each other's company. Benny."

"Meg." She took his dirty hand gingerly and dropped it just as fast. Still eyeing him warily, she picked up a stack of books off a chair and then set it down closer to Sam. "So why's he here?"

"The monsters are loose and we need someone from Purgatory to help us."

"Right." Meg smirked at Sam. "Wouldn't your daddy be rollin' in his grave over this?"

His expression dropped a little, as if it was something he'd considered himself, before he turned away from her.

Benny took a seat on the table and watched Meg as she flipped through a book. As if trying to see what she was about, he leaned back and regarded her with just a tiny smile showing on his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how Castiel was careful to keep distance between himself and the demon but Benny could feel how his attention was on them both. Something told him that if they'd fought, Castiel wouldn't be on his side to protect him.

Interesting, the vampire thought and his smile widened a little more.

"So maybe it is just because I've been brought back recently and I'm all matter of confused… but what demon gets all tangled up with hunters and an angel?" he asked. "Smacks of the weird."

"Yeah well." Meg tossed a book down and rolled her eyes at Benny. "Didn't have much choice at the time."

Castiel shifted uncomfortably behind her.

"I still don't get it. Why are you here?" Benny pressed.

She shook her head. "Like I'd tell a vamp. It's not that interesting of a story."

"Oh, now I don't know, little lady. Any demon who can get the drop on me would get my attention." Benny smiled, flashing his teeth flirtatiously, and she actually grinned back.

Sam watched the interaction curiously and looked over at Castiel to see the angel, again, staring up at the ceiling. Something in the ceiling struts was consuming his attention and Sam realized he was trying hard not to eavesdrop. Biting back a grin, Sam looked down to the books Meg had dragged out and tried not to let his amusement show too much as Castiel continued to look at the ceiling.

The loud stomping of Dean coming down the stairs made them all look up, only to see a blur of blue and black go shooting by the table. Benny blinked, confused by the sight of a small child who latched around Meg's leg. The demon barely flinched, just reached down and stroked the girl's dark hair absently.

"Nyx, what're you doin'?" she asked and she picked up the stack of books and moved around her. The girl pouted and followed her.

"Dean cheats."

'"Sure he does," Meg agreed as she put the stack down close to the shelf. "What were you playing?"

Dean was already grumbling as he headed for the map room. "Hide and seek. She was the one playing. I was just walking and found her in my room hiding under my desk. She said Kevin was down here."

Meg crouched down and brushed the dust off of Nyx. "Hide better next time, kay? So no one finds you but me."

The smile she got back was disappointed. "Okay."

Benny was staring at Nyx so hard that the little girl looked back at him. Her eyes widened and she shrank back a bit into Meg for comfort. "Monster."

Castiel and Sam glanced at each other, sharing the look that wondered how she knew Benny was a vampire. Meg barely flinched, just looked up at Benny and gave the vampire a once over. When Nyx looked at her, she shrugged.

"Dean says he's good," Meg said, rolling her eyes as if to say 'if you believe that.'

"Good monster," Nyx didn't sound impressed. "Big monster." She nervously wrapped her hand around Meg's sleeve.

"He's a big teddy bear with bad teeth, Nyx."

Benny looked offended. "I've had some better calls about my looks."

"I'm a demon, vamp, what did you expect?" Meg drawled sarcastically and watched her daughter's face. Nyx took in the byplay and realized that Meg wasn't scared, so she smiled at Benny when she didn't have to be either.

"Nyx, this is Benny. Benny, Nyx," Sam introduced them and Nyx beamed up at the vampire.

His pointed look at Nyx wasn't missed. "And she is…"

"Mine," Meg said abruptly. She stood up, ignoring the way Castiel watched her. Benny's eyes darted between them both. He noticed the way Castiel's attention was solely on the duo at the table, the way Meg pointedly ignored the angel, and then he looked at Nyx as Meg picked her up and set her on the table, warning her to sit still. The vampire could see the signs on the surface and the way Nyx stared so adoringly at Meg as Castiel stared so fiercely at them both.

It wasn't hard to figure out who her parents could be with eyes and hair like that, though he doubted the body had much to do with what the girl really was.

"Ah. I understand." Benny couldn't figure out what she was just by judging her smell, the way he could with Meg or Castiel, and it left a niggling doubt in his mind that it would be worth watching her. To see what she was in the future.

"Understand what?" Castiel demanded as if Benny's voice had snapped him out of his perusal of Meg and Nyx. The vampire moved so he could lean up beside him while the demon and the child continued to move through the library away from them.

"The demon and you were obviously together in a truly biblical way. "

Castiel glared at him.

"Unless that girl just magically appeared?" Benny asked, pointing at Nyx. "She looks like your vessel, least physically."

"She is my child as well. Parthenogenesis in a demon is very rare lately," Castiel said, falling for the trap. Benny sensed the sore spot and, with nothing better to do until Dean came back, decided to twist the knife a little deeper.

"But the mother isn't yours?" The angel's silence made him shrug. "Surprising. She's a gorgeous tiny thing, your demon."

Carrying another stack, Meg moved around them with Nyx still right on her heels. "I'm not his."

"Even better," Benny muttered to antagonize Cas when the angel and demon looked at each other. He read more between them in just that look than if they had spoken. Whether they knew it or not, though the tension between them was thick there were tiny clues about their body language that let him know everything.

The angel finally looked at him, his eyes narrowed in speculation, and Benny smiled at him broadly. "What? I'm not allowed to admire her?"

"It's not my business." Castiel turned to watch Meg stack the books, Nyx hanging around just within her shadow. Noticing the way he stared after them with a mixture of loneliness and hunger, Benny smirked and leaned closer still.

"Well, I'm just thinkin', Cas. You look at the demon the way that you do, you're sayin' you want it to be your… business." His eyes slowly roamed over Meg. "Mmhmm."

Still sitting, forgotten, at the table, Sam watched the byplay with interest. "I thought monsters didn't like demons."

"Fair to think but I wasn't fond of angels either. I get over my shock fast. Life's too short." Benny was very aware of Castiel's eyes darting between him and Meg but the demon was oblivious to their attention as she answered Nyx's chattering. "But me? I can appreciate one like her just fine when we're on the same side."

He made sure to drawl it out just to see the way Castiel twitched with annoyance. The angel shot him one last glower and then moved to help with the books.

"You're doing that deliberately," Sam muttered and the vampire gave him an innocent look.

"Not gonna lie to you, Sam, it does tickle me to get under the angel's nerves a little. He's adorable when he's all flustered-like," Benny said dryly. "They were together?"

"At some point but that ended. Things aren't likely to change back right now though." Sam jerked his head to where Nyx was trying to show Meg a drawing she'd made on a dusty book cover. "She's theirs and, man, is Meg protective over her. Cas too."

"I figured. God must be rollin' in his grave over that one, not to mention the Devil himself."

Sam snorted. "Rollin' in the Cage, actually."

"Whatever." Benny shrugged a large shoulder. "How long do you think it would take for the angel to try choppin' my head off," he grinned at Sam, "if I keep makin' eyes at his missus?"

"Call Meg his 'missus' and she'll be the one to cut off your head." Sam glanced at him. "Knowing Meg, there'd be other pieces of you that would go missing first."

"Damn." The vampire winced as he thought it over. "Ouch."

"Yep." Sam lifted his eyebrows a little. "I'd just steer clear if I were you. When those two explode, it gets messy."

"Be a sight to see," Benny muttered, eyes roaming over Meg thoughtfully. "Seems like they exploded recently too."

Sam frowned at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He stretched out long unused muscles. "Let's go find where your big brother went. I'm in a mind for a drink and some rest."

Castiel caught Sam's eye as the younger man went to follow Benny and he subtly shook his head as if to warn him not to get too friendly. Sam simply smirked, pointed at Meg, and sliced his finger across his throat. The angel's grimace let him know he understood and he tried not to laugh as he left the room.

* * *

Kevin was in front of the massive map table, murmuring into the phone and placing markers on the North American map at the same time. His face was gaunt, worn and a bit grey, and his eyes were bloodshot when he glanced up at their arrival. The moment his eyes landed on Benny, he gave the Winchesters a bewildered look but didn't stop speaking into the phone.

Dean looked behind Sam.

"Cas coming?"

"I think he wants to stay with Meg and Nyx for a while."

Dean whistled. "Great. We got Monsters Inc. style problems and he wants to play Daddy."

Benny shrugged. "Can't say I blame him. Blood is blood."

The Winchesters both looked at him. "You're taking his side?" Dean asked.

"There ain't no side as to how I look at it," Benny mentioned. "I can't say I'm interested in whatever your little group has going on. Either you want my help or you can get to sending me back to Purgatory?"

Dean looked down. "I like the kid, and I've gotten to not hate Meg as much, but we've got big problems, Ben…"

"My help or drama. One or the other, don't have time for both."

Dean looked away and focussed instead on Kevin, but both Sam and Benny knew he was giving up the argument for now.

"Look, Garth, I get it but-but- but… hey! No! Garth! Slow down, man!" Kevin was snapping into the phone and his other hand was flying over a notepad, jotting down chicken scratch notes. "Garth, they don't even- okay, calm down. I'm sure they would have told you- yeah, Dean can be like that."

"Me? What did I do? I was in the hospital."

The younger man gestured for Dean to shut up. "Garth? Garth! Focus. I get what you are saying. Yeah- yeah I mean it wasn't something I thought would come up again. I'm sorry! Look, I—. Okay. Okay, okay! I get it! Thanks for the warning. Keep an eye out for us, okay?"

Kevin hung up the old rotary phone the Winchesters kept for a landline and glanced at them both. With a dramatic eye-roll, he looked pointedly at Benny next. Turning his attention to the map, Dean gestured between the two.

"Benny, Kevin Tran. Kevin Tran, Benny. Vampire meet prophet."

"I'm the vampire," Benny said as he shook Kevin's hand. The strength in his grip made Kevin wince and he flexed his fingers when they were released.

"Yeah, I got that. So we're working with vampires now?" he asked Dean and the hunter shrugged.

"We've worked with stranger things."

Sam looked at the expansive map the prophet had spent time on, with its clusters of dots and post-its everywhere. He'd been working slowly, as if getting it very precise was key, and the map was filled with the results of that work. Sam had started noticing that about Kevin lately: he'd started to become even more obsessive about things being perfect and in order. Whatever visions he had been experiencing had made him slightly more controlling than normal. Both Winchesters had decided this new development was just a 'prophet thing'.

But Kevin ignored the map and set down the notepad he'd been scratching on. "Where's Castiel?"

"Off taking care of the wife and kid," Dean muttered and leaned down. "What do we have?"

"Well, Garth asked if you guys could check out a supposed ghost influx three towns over and then a werewolf problem in Montana."

"Wouldn't hurt," Dean started. A hunt could distract them for a little bit.

"That wasn't his issue," Kevin said when he noticed how easily Dean was getting distracted by the prospect of a hunt.

"Garth sounded pretty upset," Sam interrupted. "What's wrong?"

"Well, a few of his hunters in Nebraska caught a group of demons that were searching around the Midwest." He pointed to the map. "Seems the demons let it slip that there was a Cambion wandering around."

"No, there isn't."

"That's what I said." Kevin traced his fingers over the curling edge of the map. "Then he said 'Did you know that supposedly a demon gave birth to a child? And that kid has an angel for a dad? Man! This kid is already three years old!'" Ending his impression of the other man, he plucked at a ripped map corner. "So who didn't tell Garth? I mean, Garth of all people?"

Both brothers looked sheepish.

"It's been a pretty closely guarded secret I take it?" Benny asked and smirked at their matching guilty expressions. "Boy, I feel all kinds of special for knowin'."

"The only ones who knew were me, Castiel, the Winchesters, an—and my mom." Kevin looked down at a marker set over Arkansas. "To everyone else, well, Nyx was believed to be dead until a few weeks ago. Same with Meg," Kevin explained. "There is now an APB out about Nyx. Rumours spread fast and hunters love a challenge."

"You lied to him right?" Dean demanded

"No. Don't be stupid." Kevin gave him a look. "Garth is a lot of things but a blind killer isn't one of them and we all know that. There's enough lies going around." He glared at them and even Dean had to turn his head away. "I told him about Nyx. I told him she is a little girl who has no real clue what she is. Garth isn't like the others, guys. He doesn't want to have a little girl killed just because hunters are scared. He said he'd keep the hunters off our backs for as long as he could. Nyx is scared enough about monsters and angels; no point in terrifying her with humans now."

"How much do they know?"

"Only rumours right now but you know some of the hunters. Big scores like those tend to attract attention. Something stranger than anything they've ever seen before would get them out there hungry for a kill."

"Great." Dean yanked out a chair and sat down heavily. Sam watched him with some concern but he ignored his brother's frown. "So not only do we have Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory after us, but now we have to contend with our own hunters."

"You… you wouldn't give them Nyx, would you?" Kevin sounded troubled and Dean's face suddenly wiped clean of any exhaustion. For a moment, the hunter and the soldier was there as one man. It was an intimidating combination, and the prophet actually backed up a step.

"Never ask me that again, you hear me?"

Kevin nervously looked at Sam but he too had lost that open, friendly look he usually wore around him.

Benny frowned and wondered why they would be defending a small girl so fiercely.

"Do we tell Cas?"

"The hunters are our business," Dean said curtly. "I'll tell him."

"Okay so, moving on." Sam tapped the map. "What do we have?"

"Garth's figures and my research. There's been actual clusters of monsters starting to crop up but in atypical spots. Just sightings really. They haven't been attacking except for those two hospitals in Kansas. The people that they attack claim they don't remember anything. Just being bitten. Garth didn't say if anyone has from the bites."

"But they are up to something." Dean sighed and wiped wearily at his face. "Just a matter of what."

"No one up north has reported about Eve or Adam. It is as if they aren't bothering with humans at all. Vampires, werewolves, shifters and skinwalkers, all of them are around but everything is quiet."

"Which is worse, I agree," Sam said. Benny leaned forward to look at the state of Louisiana.

"So that's what you need me for?"

"We can't trick our way past these things. Pretty obvious we aren't monsters."

"That and you both smell a bit different now." Benny bent towards Sam. "It ain't a big thing but I can smell that you've …. done something."

"Yeah, just stop. Stop sniffing me," Sam said uncomfortably and the vampire shrugged. Dean eyed his brother and shook his head. It was enough that Benny knew about Meg and Nyx; letting him know what they had done to their souls wouldn't help.

"Give me a day, some blood, and I'll be perky and ready to roll. I know of a few places that could let you know what is going on. I bet you hunters know squat about them," Benny offered and he drew a line over the map. "We can get to this nice little spot in Amarillo. Hole in the wall but it'll have news. If it is still there anyway; it ain't exactly the sort of place you call ahead and reserve a spot."

"What kind of place?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"A bar. Safe place for vampires who are either out of a nest or just makin' a trip." Benny shrugged. "Sounds cliché but it'll have information."

"You on the level?"

"Where else would I be?" Benny asked dryly. Dean stared at the map, not liking what he saw with the clusters that Garth had reported. There were a lot of sightings near Amarillo.

"All right. We get going in a day." He pointed at Benny. "You are on your best behaviour."

Benny simply showed his teeth. "Point me to a meal then so I don't feel tempted to take a nibble."

Neither Sam or Kevin could hide their shudder at the sight of his fangs.

* * *

_Next day…_

From his place on the steps leading to the archives, Castiel watched Nyx with the cardboard box Dean had given her after unpacking groceries. She had abandoned her colouring and the children's books Sam had bought her in favour of destroying the box. Sitting in the middle of the room, she hummed to herself as she ripped it up. Peculiar as it was, she seemed to be delighting in the destruction she caused. Occasionally she would pop a piece of apple into her mouth and then chew while she tore up the cardboard even more, pausing now and then to draw faces on the cardboard.

Castiel had been watching her for nearly twenty minutes and it hadn't stopped being interesting. There was something very human about Nyx now, yet he was waiting for any sign that her power would appear and completely destroy the box. But she just dug her tiny fingers into the cardboard and continued to rip.

"Must be the Meg genes in her wanting to destroy that box," Dean said suddenly and Castiel looked up to see him standing on a step beside him.

"Must be."

"I think everyone is going stir crazy." It had been a day and in such close confines everyone had taken to avoiding each other, as much as they had for the past week. "But at least she's taking it out on the box."

The angel shrugged. "It seems to keep her occupied."

Castiel looked back at Nyx. She continued to hum loudly, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder when it got in her way, and gleefully ripped apart one of the flaps. He had started watching her more carefully lately, trying to see if there was about to be some burst of power, some flame or kindle of what she was. But there was nothing overt. Just a faint hum of there being something a little strange, a little ready to transform into something greater, but no actual push.

He almost thought that she could turn her humanity on and off. Nyx just seemed like a special human, like Sam had once been, and not the product of an angel and demon.

"You're going with Benny, aren't you?" Castiel asked, forcing himself to focus on Dean. The hunter shrugged and took a long sip of his water. He winced and made a face at the bottle.

"I swear this clean living thing will be what kills me. Not the years of drinking, women, or red meat. Water and vegetables. Gross." He sat down with a thump on Castiel's step. "The way I figure it? For once we try to know everything before we have to fight. We get this information out the only way we can. Get back here and decide what to do." He lifted the bottle to his mouth. "If we get anything out of it that is."

"I agree. After what I felt from Adam?" Castiel sighed. "It did not feel right."

Dean took another sip. "What about the angels?"

"There's been nothing. It is as if they gave up on us."

"Or Michael gave up. What did Meg have to say about it? She seemed shook up and God knows I'm not going to ask her."

"Meg and I-" Castiel sighed and looked at his feet. "We haven't really spoken since then."

"At all?"

"At all." The angel's eyes lifted to stare at the opposing wall.

Dean looked over at Nyx. "Come to think of it, if it wasn't for her hanging around Nyx, you wouldn't know she was here." He frowned. "That's not like her. Was it because of the angels?"

"Whatever Michael threatened her with bothered her but I don't think that that was it. Something happened between us."

"What? You decided to have hate sex to get it out of your systems?" Dean joked. When he saw Castiel rub nervously at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, he blinked and then promptly gave him a smirk. "I'm impressed. I had you guys pegged at doin' that in a few months at least— if ever."

"It was not planned," the angel said. "Trust me. I would have rather not done what we did."

"Was it good at least?" Castiel glared at him and Dean shrugged. "Come on, man, I know you weren't a monk as a human but as an angel you went back into that born-again virgin routine nicely."

"It wasn't what it should have been."

"You're telling me in all that time as a human you didn't once learn how to just let emotions hit you? Angry sex can be fun."

"It wasn't fun. Not in the end." Castiel was clearly uncomfortable talking about it, Dean could tell by the way he twitched and kept his eyes on the wall. "I think I expected more from both of us. But she was too angry and I…"

He looked at his feet, so obviously embarrassed that Dean decided to take it easy on him. "All right. Just remember, that because it happened doesn't make you a bad person, Cas. Or angel in this case."

"I hurt her." He waved his hand at Dean's open confusion. "Not physically but… but I should have known better."

It was on the tip of Dean's tongue to ask what exactly he meant by hurting Meg but he quickly remembered what that could mean, considering both demon and angel, and he looked back at Nyx. "Maybe we should get off the sex talk for a while. Still kinda freaks me out, you and Meg doing anything horizontal because of what you are." He breathed out sharply and changed the subject. "All right. Another hour and we're going to go to that bar Benny mentioned. You in?"

"No."

"Because you know with an angel," he stuttered to a stop. "Wait, what do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean I want to stay here," Castiel said and Dean blinked.

"But I might need you."

"I made a mistake with Meg earlier." He looked at the side. "I need to fix this."

"And you think hanging around her twenty-four seven is going to fix it? Cas, maybe you just need to leave them alone for a few weeks more."

Something stiffened in Castiel and he turned slowly towards the hunter. "Dean, I spent three years waiting. Leaving them now for long is no longer something I can think about. This is none of your business."

His eyes were so stony and cold that Dean had to force himself not to look away. "Okay but can you at least be ready if we need you?"

Castiel looked away. "Fine," he said and he could feel Dean getting ready to say something more though he'd been warned.

"Ow!"

The sudden, high-pitched cry caught their attention only to see Nyx staring at her finger. She'd dropped the box she'd been destroying and was sniffling, trying to bend her finger a little and making little sounds of pain. Castiel straightened up to see what was wrong while Dean leaned forward, setting his water down.

"What's up, Nyx?"

She got up, kicking the destroyed remnants of the box to the side, and sniffed as she came towards them. "Got hurt," she mumbled as she held out her small hand to show them the cut. Both hunter and angel knew she had stung herself with the cardboard cut, just judging by the way she spoke so clipped.

"Ouch," Dean agreed as he held her hand and inspected the cut for her. It was surprisingly deep for a cardboard cut but she had been really tearing into the box. "It doesn't look too bad."

"Hurts bad," Nyx complained, not liking his answer. Dean glanced over his shoulder at her father and made a slight nod in her direction that the angel quickly understood. Castiel held out his hand to Nyx and she stared at him warily. When she made no move to put her hand in Castiel's, he put it back down and looked away from her.

Despite noticing the tension, Dean only patted her head. "Come on, let's get you a band-aid and something to put on it. It is going to hurt for a while," he said, carefully manipulating her the way he would have done to Sam as a child. He even made a show of standing up and stretching before gesturing at her cut. "Come on. We might have to put some iodine on that if he can't heal you." He clicked his tongue a few times. "It's going to sting bad."

When her eyes went wide and pleading, he had to try hard not to give in and tell her he was joking. Giving Castiel another not-so-subtle nod, he started off for the common room.

Nyx licked her lower lip nervously and finally turned to face Castiel. Dean kept walking away, talking loudly as he did it, and Nyx slipped closer to Castiel. She touched Castiel's knee with her other hand to get his attention. He looked down at her and kept his hands tightly clenched on his thighs as she showed him the cut on her finger.

"Hurts," she repeated wretchedly and he looked at the cut.

She stared up at him and Castiel hesitated, wanting it to be her choice. "Nyx?"

"Please," she whispered. "It bit me."

Murmuring for her to let him see, he smiled and held out his hand flat so she could rest her palm in his. Surprised how worried he himself was over such a tiny cut, he gently ran his thumb over the edge of her finger and heard her murmur a please again. Castiel slipped his other hand over hers so her tiny hand was completely encased by his own. A faint glimmer from his fingers travelled over her skin and he saw her wince a little as his Grace healed her. The cut had been tiny but like any child the pain had startled her at first. He held her hand gently and watched the way her eyes remained on the glow as he let it linger. It was worth it to see how open and trusting her face was when she realized he'd taken her pain away.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded, still looking at her hand between his, and he felt her fingers wiggle a little on his palm. "Doesn't hurt!"

Her eyes almost shone as she actually smiled at him and he let a little more of his Grace curl around her to make her happy. She kept her hand in his other one and he ran his thumb over the healed cut again. Reaching out, he fixed her sweater's collar, feeling the satiny way her hair curled around his fingers, and he had a tiny flashback to the tiny baby she'd once been.

He felt her squeeze his hand. "I'm small."

Castiel stared at her and realized that she'd caught that bit of memory from him. "You're built the way God meant for you to be," he offered.

She shook her head and her fingers twisted within his until their fingers were locked. "Nope. I'm me because of me."

Wondering if she meant something else, Castiel let it drop and instead watched the absent way she kept holding his hand. She was looking around the bunker as if it consumed her attention and he tugged a little to draw her eyes back to him.

"Nyx, do you like it here?" he asked. He wasn't in any rush to lose the contact between them. For the first time she was letting him touch her and Castiel wanted it to linger.

Childishly, she shrugged. "Smells old."

"Where would you like to be?" he asked a bit more carefully and watched her think it over as she chewed on her lower lip and stared at her shoes.

"Safe place. Want to be safe," she said, looking up at him suddenly. Their matching blue eyes connected in a glance and held. Castiel felt a flicker of memory, the way he would if he had been reading the mind of another angel, but he wasn't sure if it was her memory or his. Only it wasn't a rigid dream or memory; it was just sensation and emotion. All he felt was warmth and protection and how much she wanted that.

Lifting his hand, he touched her cheek and tried to hide how relieved he was that she let him do that. "I'll try to keep you safe."

Nyx continued to bite into her lower lip and she eventually looked away from him again.

"I've got some iodine and Band-Aids!" Dean was shouting from the other room, as if threatening to come back, and Castiel watched Nyx's eyes widen. She clearly expected him to give her up and he managed not to smile as he nodded.

"Go hide. I've had iodine on wounds before; it stings."

Though she looked a little confused by his precise way of speaking, she nodded, smiled widely, and went racing off to the spare rooms. Castiel watched her go, unable to stop the small smile from touching the corner of his own lips. Dean grumbled loudly as he passed where Castiel was sitting, called out her name and threatened her with iodine, and when Sam looked up at him pointedly from where he was on the phone, he actually looked embarrassed. His brother rolled his eyes and looked back down, muttering that Dean needed a hobby.

Castiel let himself smile when he heard Nyx's delighted giggle as Dean cursed how fast she could move.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Meg standing at the overhead railing, arms braced before her with a mug dangling from her fingers. She was watching Nyx race through the library, rocking back and forth on her heel as one foot stayed braced up on the rail. Slowly, she glanced back at the stairwell and noticed Castiel staring at her. She held the look for a moment, until something in her seemed to close up a little, before she turned away to walk down the opposite stairs.

* * *

_Next day…_

The Impala rumbled down the narrow strip of road as Dean searched for the building. The town seemed pretty dead and he didn't want to chance being noticed by pulling over for extra directions. He'd insisted on going with Benny, ignoring Sam's obvious anger at being left behind in favour of the vampire. Dean had pointed out that if any hunters came knocking at the bunker, Sam would be the best one to defuse them. Meg would likely just kill them.

" _Almost get the feeling you don't want me there," Sam said angrily and Dean glared at him as he slammed the trunk down._

" _I can get there fast. We'll be right back and Cas will be up on the Angel Radio to help us out."_

" _You should be resting." Sam followed him around the car. "Doctors said…"_

" _Doctors don't have our worries, Sam. I can't just sit still and eat Jell-O and act like someone with a normal life. We need to make sure we're not running into a shit storm," Dean said._

" _You get hurt, you'll have no one to blame but yourself," Sam countered and Dean grinned._

" _That's why I don't plan on getting hurt. Have some faith, Sam, seriously."_

Benny cleared his throat, distracting the other man from his thoughts, and tossed the empty blood packet into a trash bag at his feet. Dean sniffed in disgust and the vampire glanced at him.

"What?"

"You had to do that? You fed before we left. I can smell it on you right now." Dean made a face. "Blood leaves a smell, you know that."

"Looks better if they think I've just gorged. Then they won't ask me to feed on you for proof. They can smell blood as good as I can and might ask questions," Benny explained, slowly as if to an idiot. "Vampires, remember? Turn left up here."

Resisting the urge to mimic the vampire like a child, Dean swerved over behind what looked like an old rustic bar. Benny ran his fingers over his cheek thoughtfully and waited as Dean manoeuvred his car between two old pick-ups.

"So you're doin' this to save a demon's kid?"

"Not exactly. These monsters will breathe down our necks too because of us handling Eve the way we did. The demons and angels are her parents' problems."

"Ah huh. About that?" Benny tilted his head and looked up at the neon sign. "Auntie's gotten a bit more forceful since I saw him last. Something happen?"

"Knocked up a demon, lost them, fell from Heaven, got his Grace back, laid war to Hell to get some souls back and tried to reorganize Heaven," Dean rattled off. "He's had a lot happen."

The vampire whistled. "So my staying out of his way is a good thing?"

"I don't even think you registered to Cas, really. He's got a lot to worry about besides us." Dean parked the car and looked at him. "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Nah, I just wondered." He nodded at the bar and effectively dismissed the angel from the conversation. "Looks just like how I left it."

They exited the car in unison and Dean made sure to stick close to the vampire as he noticed what looked like several slender men and women exiting the bar. They looked like a group of college students out for a night in the country but there was something in the way they moved with a sense of ownership and arrogance that made Dean glance again. He felt a hard nudge in his side.

"Nouveau vampire," Benny explained, keeping his voice low. "Can smell it from here."

"What?" Dean frowned and looked at them as they passed. One bared her fangs at him and the others laughed too loudly. Nothing like the vampires he tended to come up again.

"Younglings, barely a week old. Change themselves and each other because it seems 'nifty.'"

"Yeah, don't say nifty."

"People don't say nifty anymore?" Benny sounded put out as Dean let him open the door to the bar.

"No, thank God."

"That's a shame." Benny took a deep inhale and gestured for Dean to stick close. "Smells like blood to me. Mm."

He opened the foyer door next and nearly collided with a petite blonde woman standing guard in front of an old wood door. She glared at him and Dean suspiciously. Her eyes went back to Benny and she showed her fangs to him. When he did the same, she nodded and gestured only at Dean.

"No unattached humans. Bar is on neutral ground. For all we know he is a hunter on a score," she warned. Dean blinked, realizing that she was a type of bouncer. With how small she was, he never would have expected that.

"He's my boy," Benny said and Dean gave him a look that begged him to shut up. The tiny female vampire eyed Dean appraisingly.

"Well, he is pretty. You're going to make him?"

"Soon as the hepatitis shot takes effect," Dean joked weakly to cover how uncomfortable her look was making him. Benny nudged him hard again to shut up. The bouncer gave him another strange look before turning her attention to Benny.

"We do require a blood sample if you are going to participate in any of the other sharing activities," the vampire said, reassuming her bored pose. "The last thing we need is some poison or infection. Infected blood is disgusting."

"'Course it is, little sister. I'll let you know first thing but I often don't share my meals or any I make. Unless I'm asked real nice," Benny drawled with a wink that made the vampire grin back at him. Leaning forward, he tilted his head towards her and Dean could only stare in surprise as she leaned forward as well, just a hairsbreadth from touching Benny's mouth. "If you don't mind, I'm lookin' for some local information. I'm not attached to a nest, like."

His hand was on her neck, thumbing her collarbone, and she smiled.

"You'll have to talk to Tommy then. He's got all the word. I'll put in a word and I'll see you later," she murmured, pushing up against him seductively. Benny smiled and let her neck go.

"Thanks, ma'am." He kissed the back of her hand and then pushed Dean ahead of him.

Dean couldn't help but be a little impressed. "You operate fast."

"She's young. Doesn't take much to thrall the younger ones a bit." Benny shrugged. "Not like I'd say no either."

Unable to help it, Dean smirked. "What, you're up for a good staking?"

"Don't say that again," Benny said without looking at him and the hunter winced at his own bad joke.

"Gotcha."

They headed down the dark stairwell, barely able to see despite the low glow of floor lights. Benny thumped him on the chest to warn him not to go too far without him and Dean waited for him to get the door open before he joined him at the bottom of the staircase. At the low throb of swanky blues and country mixed together, the hunter stopped just inside the door and turned around. Even as a human he could smell the heavy aroma of blood, sex, and incense.

"Did you…" Dean paused, lowering his voice. "Did you bring me to a vampire sex club?"

The vampire grinned. "I recall you saying one time that you were open-minded."

"Blood orgies tend to be on the side of things I don't get involved in on a daily basis," he snapped and Benny tilted his head, shoving open the door.

"So don't. Just try not to attack if you see two vampires biting on a man, got me?" He waited for Dean to pass through and displayed his fangs just as a warning to everyone in the room. "'Member? You're supposed to be someone wantin' this life and is just about to be turned, so you need to look all starry-eyed and eager."

"Sure thing," Dean grumbled sarcastically.

"Mmhmm, well." The vampire grinned as he glanced over his shoulder. "I am rather certain you can get the dopey look in just about two seconds."

Dean turned and his eyes widened automatically as he saw three women sprawled in a leather booth in the corner of the bar. Two were biting into the neck of the third as they straddled her tiny body and if it wasn't for her half-dead gaze at the ceiling, it might have been the sexiest thing he'd seen in weeks.

"That's the look I was needin'. Time to play your part, Dean. Keep your mouth shut and your ears open."

Dean barely remembered to close his mouth as he followed Benny into a brighter area of the room. The bar was close to empty except for a few people - _vampires_ Dean corrected himself - and because of the heat in the room, he was dying for a drink already. But it seemed less likely to happen than before. Benny had insisted on him being completely sober for this though Dean wondered if the vampire wasn't a little drunk himself now after devouring three blood packs in the Impala. He turned a circle, taking in the rough-hewn decor and the shaded booths, and had the uncomfortable feeling that every vampire there was watching him like he was his next meal.

Benny elbowed him hard in the side. "Over here. Keep your mouth shut."

A thin, almost oily seeming vampire was seated at a main table, looking twitchy but he stared at them and gestured abruptly. Following the order, Benny drew up a chair across from him and Dean followed suit. Benny gave him a pointed look that stopped him and he stayed standing beside him. He had to play the part, Dean reminded himself.

"So you're the vamp lookin' for news?" the thinner vampire asked. "You put out a loud enough beacon, asking my girl to get me. I've been working."

"Needin' all the info I can get," Benny said. "No names, just information."

"Who's he?" The vampire looked pointedly at Dean.

"He's with me."

"Really?" He looked Dean over closely. "He doesn't have the marks he should have."

Benny flashed his fangs and winked. "That's because I don't leave them on his neck." Dean glared at Benny and, judging by the smirk, he could have sworn that his friend was enjoying this. Benny's fangs retreated and he leaned across the table. "I've been looking for a new nest to devote myself to and it seems like this isn't about to happen. Everyone is holed up tight."

"That's because we've been told not to. You haven't heard?" The vampire blinked. "Our Alpha transferred the message to all of us."

"Bloodlust got to me a few days ago. Missed it," Benny said smoothly.

"The Mother of All has returned. He received the message in his dreams and spoke to her. Her sources are in the South, tracking her enemies so that this time, she is not stopped," the vampire said and his voice took on the dreamy quality of the fanatically devoted.

"Any idea where he is? Might want to see him myself."

"The Alpha isn't up to visitors." He twitched a little.

"How many vamps are in the area then?" Benny asked and the vampire shrugged.

"If you're looking for a new nest, then you're gonna have a hard time, friend. These are about to be our days. No more hiding in shadows. Once she finds what she wants." His grin was loopy and strange on his narrow face. "But all who oppose her will be converted. It is wise to fall in line to her. Even some of the other species are already on the move to avoid her if they don't plan on bowing to her."

"Thought all monsters would be loyal to the Mother," Benny commented and the vampire shrugged.

"You always get some that choose to rebel. It is not just monsters." The blood-drunk look was suddenly so clear on him that Dean frowned himself. "Any touched by her words are blessed."

"I bet."

"There's been movement north of here. Something the Mother wants is in Kansas." His eyes darted up to the bar. "Excuse me, need another drink."

Benny stared at him and then up at Dean. The hunter crouched down so he didn't have to raise his voice.

"You think he's being a bit too free with his information?" Dean muttered and the vampire nodded.

"Way too free." Benny exhaled sharply through his nose and stood up. "I think they recognized you. They worked the trap fast. But we got part of what we needed."

Dean nodded and followed him out of the bar, having to press up against the bar as they passed the vampires. They all turned to look at him, one or two baring their fangs as if in invitation to him, but Benny simply kept him moving forward with a large hand between his shoulder blades. Breaking out into a run wouldn't be smart but they made sure to move as fast and quietly as possible.

No one followed them as they made it outside and Dean had just heaved a sigh of relief when the vampire who had stopped them before cleared her throat. She stood under the shade of the overhang and took a few steps out towards them, each swing of her hips threatening.

"I thought I recognized Dean Winchester." Her teeth glinted sharp in the neon light and her blonde hair spilled over her breasts as she tossed her head. "And we all know that he would never become a vampire's meal willingly."

"You caught me. Aren't you smart? Want a medal?" he asked.

"Just your blood. There's someone who would reward us for it." She snapped her fingers and two other vampires materialized out from the shadows of the building. Benny and Dean pressed back to back and Dean fingered the knife he kept tucked in between his jeans and shirt. The bouncer's eyes darted to Benny. "And you, brother. You'd let him bring you here? You can't be that foolish to betray your own kind."

"Kill them, Sharon." Their informant stepped out from behind her and both of them noticed the strange grey tint to his face, and he still swayed as if blood-drunk. "The mother wants the Winchester's blood but the vampire we can behead safely."

"I have some issue with that." Benny eyed a vampire starting towards him.

"That's really not your say. Kill him."

Dean spun and dodged a running vampire, slamming his fist into its neck. Benny met the other head on, his greater weight throwing the male into the brick wall. They fought in near silence, the alleyway too closed in to do much more than throw each other around. Benny sliced open the throat of another vampire using the edge of a dumpster. It shrieked as he used his strength and weight to slam the vampire's head down again and again until the head popped off into the dumpster.

Dean slid his arm around his vampire's throat and heard a snap of bone and the monster growled and struggled to fight him off. Pressing hard on the windpipe, Dean reached into his belt and yanked out his knife. It was hard to ignore the blood pouring over his hands as he had to slice down multiple times until his attack's head rolled off. Disgusted by the blood, he made a face and looked over to call to Benny.

The female vampire attacked, her tiny weight colliding with Benny's. He went flying through the air, stopped only by the dumpster, and sprang back at her, pinning her against the wall as his teeth sank into her neck deeply. She howled in pain and thrashed against him, trying hard to get him to let her go. Benny's hands gripped her and lifted her up so his teeth could bury deeper.

Dean held his knife out as the one other vampire remaining tried to slip by.

"Yeah, stay right there," he warned and the vampire nervously backed down. Benny's struggle with the other vampire was ending and Dean had to swallow down the bile in his throat at the sight of what Benny was doing. He bled her out until she sagged weakly against him. Sensing her weakness, Benny let her go and she went to her knees. He spat out a mouthful of her blood and stared down into her anguished eyes.

"Get lost," he ordered. She whimpered and crawled back towards the bar. Benny watched her and faced Dean. Wiping at his bloody eye, Dean shrugged and they both looked at the vampire they had blocked in closer to the Impala. He went to run by Benny but the bigger vampire had him by the throat, shoving him against the side of the building before he could get very far.

"Let's try this again, if I may?" Benny asked. "What has been goin' on?"

The vampire hissed at him and, reaching over Benny's shoulder, Dean let the tip of his knife rest on his hollow cheek. "See this? I'm good at finding places that will make you wish I would kill you. So what is going on?"

The informant lost his blood-drunk look immediately. "It's a… an… all points bulletin. Sorta."

Handing Benny the knife, Dean flipped his phone open and texted a number. He heard a beep in return.

"The Mother is ordering the demons to be converted. Any demon that gets in her way. Some sort of revenge," the vampire confessed, terrified by the knife Benny was slowly digging into his cheek. "T-there's some hepped up monster, supposedly, who wants to find a specific female demon. Rumour has it, the demon created life with an angel."

"What did you say?" Dean whispered but the vampire was ignoring him and starting to ramble.

"Whatever is going on is big. Gonna be big. No one knows why though. He told us that Hell was already invaded and any monsters she creates are attached to demon souls by the Mother. She's been planning this for years. But that's all I heard."

"You certainly know a lot," Benny muttered.

"I'm an informant, it's my job!" the vampire cried out.

"Why this demon?"

"Any of our kind can find this one, I heard. Should be easy; they know where to find a scent. There's been talk that this big guy, Adam, is goin' to create some havoc. He's been spreading the rumours, getting those loyal to the Mother to search. Few in town are already headed out to the last area they were rumoured to be. Outside Lawrence. Just looking for that trail they left behind."

Dean and Benny looked at one another and the vampire whimpered as Dean's knife dragged on his cheek when he backed up.

There was a loud whoosh sound that had Dean spinning around only to see nothing. But Benny shouted as he was shoved out of the way when a blur came by him, grabbed the vampire, and pinned him up to the wall. Castiel had materialized out of nowhere and his hand gripped the monster's throat. The shadows of wings seemed to appear at his back but it was his face, a mask of calculated fury, that made the vampire cry out.

"How long ago?" the angel growled.

"Jesus, Cas!" Dean said and Benny turned, nervously looking at the end of the alley. But with his attention solely on the vampire, Castiel wasn't about to be deterred.

"How long ago did they leave for Kansas?"

"Few hours ago." The vampire stared up at Castiel. "You… who're you?"

Without hesitating, Castiel slammed his palm down onto the monster's head and burned him within his own body. He ignored the way he screeched and sagged down into just a pile of limp flesh now, and in disgust he dropped the vampire to the ground. Dean and Benny both shielded their eyes against the brilliant light and when they dropped their hands away, Castiel was agitatedly pacing outside the bar.

"You just killed our only source out here!" Benny snapped at him.

"I'm trying to save lives, not indulge in conversation," Castiel countered. "Especially with a vampire."

"How long were you here for? I'd only just texted you." Dean had to lean on the car, eyes half-shutting. He was still feeling worn out and the fight had winded him a little.

"Long enough." Castiel looked at the dead bodies with a disgusted scowl. "Was it what you expected?"

"Was hoping for a bit more." Benny rubbed the blood off his hands on his coat. "So what do we do? Monsters are moving out."

"Monsters, angels, demons, hunters. One set are ready to kill me and Sam, and all of the others want the kid apparently." Dean shook his head. "This day gets better and better."

"Get back to the bunker. I'll meet you there," Castiel ordered and he started walking away from them.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to try to see if I can take care of one problem at least." With that, Castiel was gone and leaving them alone again. Benny looked at Dean and with a tremulous chuckle Dean grinned at him.

"You get used to him doing that."

"Sure you do."

* * *

Knowing Dean would go back as fast as he could, Castiel took himself to the one place he knew he was not truly welcome right now. It didn't matter that he had helped restore the angels to Heaven or that he had reclaimed his Grace with a vow to bring them back to normalcy in Heaven. Or how hard he had tried to bring them all back together as a family once again.

There were still some parts of Heaven he was kept out of. Where he could feel the threat of other angels wanting to do him harm.

Then there were certain Heavens he knew would have exactly who he was looking for. He was only looking for someone in charge anyway, not for the numerous Garrisons or Intelligence sects left over from the old Host of Angels.

An angel with a sense of justice and guidance.

It was Camael who met him at within what was a small child's Heaven, deep in the heart of where Heaven was devoted to martyrs. After Metatron's rule, the angels who had returned had made Heaven as lush and beautiful as before, only this time without the rigid structure of the Archangels. Now the souls could find their loved ones without the angels pushing them back to their 'right' Heaven and it made travelling between the Heavens all the easier. The child's Heaven was a lush rainforest in the evening, and ordinarily Castiel would have enjoyed it. But all he could feel was tension as he approached the other angel tending to this Heaven.

Camael was in the form of a young teenage boy, his hair falling to his shoulders and his glowing dark skin ethereal even in Heaven. He smiled at him from where he was planting a tree in the rich soil and did not seem to be surprised to see him.

"Brother."

Castiel reminded himself not to be fooled by a soft voice and welcoming smile. Or by the youthful appearance; Camael was as old as Castiel.

"Camael."

Of all the angels, Camael had been the one to take control of a large legion. He had been a formidable warrior for centuries but in the Fall he had strangely kept himself separate from the wars of Angels and Men. He had waited patiently and not attacked Castiel like the others had nor followed him blindly like a cult devotee. He was strictly devoted to following God's Word and because of that devotion and incorruptibility Castiel had felt content in leaving Heaven in his care.

"You heard, I take it?"

"About your demon being alive and your child with her? Of course." Camael brushed off his hands and stood up. "The seraph Michael told us. Though I did doubt him. He has never been the same since his Grace was reborn from the Lethe."

"I- I think it may be worse than you know."

The other angel's dark eyes flickered over Castiel's face. "Tell me."

Castiel held out his hand and Camael clasped it. The shock of transfer didn't show but Camael let his hand go abruptly within seconds. What Castiel had shown him clearly disturbed him enough that his boyish features seemed to age in that moment.

"So you think Michael is corrupted." Camael regarded the soil and shook his head.

"I know it. He attacked them."

"In Heaven's interests."

"It is not right for Heaven to seek the death of a child. He did not want her for Heaven. He wanted her dead. I'm sure of it," Castiel whispered and Camael arched an eyebrow at him.

"You were a soldier before all this, Castiel. You yourself would have killed a Cambion or Nephilim for the Cause."

"That was before I understood what it was to have the freedom of choice… to be a father."

Camael stepped back and whistled, clicking his tongue several times as if he was going to reprimand Castiel. "In the old days, I could have you tortured for such blasphemy. All it would take is a word for the others who are watching to come here."

Castiel pointedly looked around and he knew his brother was not lying. Anytime he entered Heaven, he knew he risked everything. "Would you try it?"

There was a distinct challenge in his voice but the older seraph only smiled. "No. As foolish and stubborn as you are, you are one of our finest warriors. There must be something you are seeing in all of this that is beyond the angels' understanding. God chose you to be a father to a demon's child and the others can't help but wonder why. Yet I no longer doubt His Will." Camael watched his brother curiously. "You adapted well to human life and were one of the few to come away better for it, Castiel. I'm surprised you chose to regain your Grace."

At Castiel's silence, the other angel shrugged. "Though we do such a strange things for love and hope."

"What will it take," Castiel paused and took in a breath, "for you to keep the angels away from us?"

Camael blinked thoughtfully and watched him pace a little ways away. "You want time with them? You have been having it. I called them away days ago when Michael did not return. A Garrison without their captain, even one as a strange as Michael, should not be left alone. What do you really want, Castiel?"

"I want to be able to walk with them and not fear an angel is about to try to kidnap my daughter or…."

"Try to kill your demon?"

"Yes."

"You would have to resume your place in Heaven for that kind of control and you refused. You don't want that role."

They both remembered the angels pleading with Castiel, though they had hated and loved him equally, and the way he had refused. It wasn't that there was a duty attached to that role he couldn't perform; that had never been the problem. It had been because Castiel had seen himself unworthy of it.

But for the first time in years, Camael could see the possibility of his brother resuming what he had once been.

"I am asking you now. I have been willing to fight with all of you, to protect and help you, but I will not return to Heaven now." Castiel turned towards him. "I am asking that we be left alone for as long as you can give us."

Camael frowned. "Heaven's interests will not be in your daughter for some years yet. As Naomi said before, it is God's Will we protect Life. We just forgot it along the way and we were punished for that."

"I want your word."

"We will make a deal, as humans and demons do. If you can find what has corrupted our brother, you have the protection of Heaven. I it is true then he is responsible for part of his Garrison dying, then our problems are greater than we know. I will keep my garrison here and be certain the others do not leave either." Camael saw the distrust glinting in Castiel's eyes and he waved a hand. "I want peace, Castiel. As does Anya and every other Angel who suffered. Even Metatron, that damned traitor, wants peace as well."

He looked at the Heaven that surrounded them. "So many dead, so many corrupt. Is that what free will does?"

 _No,_ Castiel thought, _that is what arrogance does._

With just a sharp nod, he left Heaven and Camael sighed, snapping his fingers. A cherub appeared at his side instantly.

"Camael?"

"Except for those with duties on Earth, all angels return here. I want none who can be corrupted by whatever force Castiel is claiming took Michael."

The cherub looked confused. "What about the Cupids?"

"Let them stay. The Grigori can report later. But this is a direct order from the highest choir." He watched the cherub disappear and sighed as he took a seat on the ground to wait.

Heaven suddenly swelled as instantly angels of all choirs and Garrisons returned. Camael felt the change in the air, the sharp smell of ozone and Grace, and he smiled. At the very least, his family could stop wandering and he could see what had become of them all.

An instinct inside warned him that if he left them to follow Michael then there would be only death and destruction.

* * *

Dean broke the speed limit to get back to the bunker, and counted himself lucky that they weren't pulled over for it. The Impala was built to be pushed so hard and fast, and the miles sped by without him taking a single break. He barely had the car parked before he was out the door and into the bunker with Benny close on his heels. A call ahead to Sam had warned the others to be ready though Dean had told Sam to keep it quiet as to what they were doing. Something told him that if Meg found out early then she'd high-tail it out of there and Castiel would have a hell of a time finding her again.

Kevin met them at the door, struggling into his coat. "What the hell? I was just going to sleep when Sam dragged me out of bed."

"Got bigger worries than you getting your beauty sleep. How do you feel about visiting Garth and running intel for us?" Dean asked as he pushed by him and into the bunker. Benny sighed and remained just inside the door, catching a bag Dean tossed to him that Sam had stacked in the corner. If anything, his brother knew that when Dean called to say they would be on the move that it would happen fast.

"Ugh. Garth again? But I just got here!" Kevin groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'd really like to not…."

"Not giving you an option. You're doing it. Get the bags in the car with Benny. And no bitching or I swear to God I'm going to make you hitchhike." Dean stalked into the common room and came face to face with Meg so quickly that he had to jump back to avoid colliding with her. Meg looked him up and down and Dean returned the glare. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face, revealing her haggard and annoyed expression. "You heard?"

"You're lucky I'm an expert in getting a three year old ready fast." She leaned against the kitchen table. "What is going on?"

"Turns out monsters just aren't looking for us. They are looking for you." He glanced around. "And Nyx. Where is she?"

"Hiding."

He frowned. "This a new thing of hers?"

She shrugged. "Figured it was a good trick for her to learn this time around. She's good at it. Nyxie? Time to go."

At her call Dean heard the scuffle of a bag behind him but turned only to see that it was Sam. His brother looked amused but out of nowhere Nyx came running up and took Sam's large hand, dwarfed by him.

"Car ride?" she asked excitedly and Sam nodded.

"Sure thing."

Nyx let go of Sam to stand beside Meg and she pressed against her leg. "I brought my book."

"Good girl," Meg patted her head, "but Dean has to tell us what is going on first."

"Well…"

"I've been able to divert the angels," Castiel's voice called out as he walked down the overhead catwalk. Meg and Dean both looked up at him, Sam noticing how startled they looked by his sudden arrival.

"How?"

"They are my family, after all." He jogged down the steps and stood beside Sam.

"Did you think about asking them to help out?"

"I think keeping my requests to a minimum is a wise choice," he said. Meg made a sound and the angel stared at her next. "What?"

"We can trust them?" she asked and her eyes narrowed at him.

"I would trust them over any in Hell right now," Castiel said and ignored the way she rolled her eyes. "They are tired of War. Whatever is inside Michael is no longer just Michael. We all saw it. He is corrupted and Heaven won't risk losing more angels because of that."

Meg thought back on the yellow flicker of eyes and the way he had nearly beat an angel to a pulp, and looked down at Nyx. "So what do we do? Monsters on our backsides and now just demons to worry about."

"Leave a trail. Wide open for a bit to get them out of the city and then we mask it as best as we can. We'll take Kevin to Garth so he can help him and then we can regroup at Rufus'," Dean explained.

"Like I'm scared of monsters," Meg grumbled.

"You might not be but Nyx is," Dean snapped and the little girl looked up at her name. "This bunker can take a lot but we can't hide here forever. Whatever that thing was in Lawrence was enough to take down Castiel. You want to face it?"

Meg folded her arms over her chest and turned her attention to the opposing wall instead. Unused to seeing her look that way, as if she was giving up and it was killing her to admit defeat, Castiel watched her face curiously.

"If we can leave them in the dust, Kevin can warn the other hunters," Dean said, distracting the angel.

"All of us can't fit into the Impala, Dean," Sam pointed out.

"I can fly us to…," Castiel began.

"We can't risk that either. I know you're telling me that angels won't attack but I can't trust that right now, Cas. Especially if that Michael is looking for you and Meg." Dean was steadily assuming control and with no other choice they were letting him. "Demons will be on the lookout too so Meg can't just start teleporting like crazy. So what do we do? Any car we have is out of order after the fire. And I'm not buying a crap SUV again."

Meg shrugged. "If Cas can get me to Heber Springs fast, we can find my car. It was impounded, wasn't it?"

Sam nodded. "When I called to have them ship Linda's -." He stopped himself. "It was in the impound."

"There we go." Meg grinned and the viciousness behind it was aimed at Dean. "An actual good car for once."

"I'll pretend you just didn't compare a Cougar with an Impala," Dean growled defensively.

"Cougar eats an Impala," Meg drawled sarcastically but they all noticed her heart didn't seem to be into insulting him this time.

"Fine. So we split up. Cas flies under the radar, Meg doesn't teleport and we all get out of here as quiet as possible."

"Nyx comes with me," Meg insisted. "Knowing you guys you would get her swilling beer before she's five and I'd rather not have a drunk kid."

Below her, Nyx huffed as if she understood that. Dean nodded and nudged Sam to follow him to finish packing up their weapons and shutting the bunker down.

Meg watched them go and turned to see Castiel staring at her. "What?"

"I thought we agreed on space."

"I think this sort of trumps that for us. We're not kids, Castiel, or human. We have Nyx to worry about," she muttered, brushing by him.

She headed off to the outside with Nyx following her and Castiel sighed, wondering how awkward this trip could be if Meg still maintained her distance as easily as she had been doing it for the past week. The only consolation was how easy it was becoming to talk to Nyx. He had asked for time and he wasn't about to forget that he was being given it, even if it hadn't been what he expected.

* * *

It was when they were outside that Meg realized that Nyx was not eager to do this.

The long wait for Dean and Benny to come back after ordering them all to get ready to leave had made her impatient; even after all these years she hated waiting to get things moving. Now Castiel was keeping her waiting. It was enough to make her want to go on her own.

Determined not to go completely unarmed, she finished strapping a new knife to her ankle and fixed her pantleg down over it. Hearing a thumping sound on metal, she glanced up to see Nyx watching her very seriously from where she sat on the Impala's hood.

"What's wrong, monster?" she asked as she straightened up.

"Don't want to leave." Nyx turned her head and looked up at the sky.

"Well, we can have a trip. I'll take you to a beach if you're a good girl," Meg offered and Nyx's focus swung back to her.

"Promise?"

"Promise." Meg checked her other knife holster on her belt and fixed the blade. "Nice vacation, right?"

She stopped talking when she realized that Nyx was looking behind her, chewing on her lower lip. She picked up her unicorn and hugged it tight, clearly shy. Seeing her tension, Meg straightened up slowly and dusted her hands off on her jeans before turning around to face Castiel. He stared at her for a moment and then gestured behind him.

"I'm finished."

"I'm ready to go when you are." She brushed by him and grabbed her jacket from the bag she'd packed. "I take it someone is babysitting ?"

"Dean is going to leave Kevin up in Sioux Falls. Garth is waiting for him there. With any luck, dividing us all up will put them off. Outside Lebanon is when they will start using hex bags and deterrents. It is a good plan. They won't know who to follow."

Meg smirked a little. "I thought you would have to babysit us all. You know? Fly from one car to the other to make sure we all play nice."

Castiel turned his head to watch her shoulder on her jacket. "I thought that, considering what happened, some distance between us is the best choice. But if they are tracking us, then I would like to stay with you."

Meg looked calm and pulled her hair free of her collar. "Fine."

When she started to move away, Castiel held her arm to keep her still. "That's it?"

"Yeah." She arched a brow and looked pointedly down at his hand. "I thought we were done?"

He let her go reluctantly, still confused by her agreeing with him, and turned to look at Nyx. Swinging her legs against the Impala's side, she was staring up at him and looked perplexed. Smiling a little, he crouched down in front of her. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "Bad angels."

"No bad angels will find you with me. I'll protect you," he offered, trying to forget his awkwardness with Meg in favour of Nyx and her trusting eyes. "I fly fast."

"Wings?" She pointed over his shoulder and he blinked in surprise. "The other angel had wings. I saw them!"

"We don't try to show those." At her disappointed sigh, he reached out and tentatively patted her knee. "It scares people."

"Not scared," she said stubbornly and he tilted his head, smiling again.

"No, I don't think you are."

"Nyx?" Meg called out from behind Castiel and the little girl jumped down from the Impala's hood to race over to her. Her hand slipped automatically into Meg's and Castiel sighed as he stood across from the demon and Sam. Dean and Benny came up beside them as well.

"You take care of yourself and don't do anything to attract attention. Get the Cougar and we'll meet you at Rufus', got it?"

"I understand."

"Be careful," Sam said seriously. The brothers gave Castiel awkward smiles and Meg rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Oh my god, you boys are drama queens. What do you want? Goodbye hugs and kisses?"

"Shut up, Meg," Dean muttered, embarrassed, and Nyx made a small sound. They all looked down at her to see her staring at Dean.

"Bad words," she said loudly and Sam bit back a grin.

"Guess you have to watch the language, huh?"

Castiel looked at Dean with a slight smirk and the hunter actually looked even more embarrassed by it. "We'll see you in a day or so."

"Be careful," Castiel said before turning towards Meg. He waited for her to lift Nyx up before he reached out and touched her forehead.

When they were gone, Dean shook his head. "You guys get the feeling I just sent Cas to his death?"

Both Benny and Sam snorted and tried not to laugh.

* * *

The Cougar still ran smoothly even after a few weeks off and Meg had stroked the steering wheel the way she might have a beloved pet. It had rumbled to life after Castiel did something—she wasn't sure what—to fix the engine while she jimmied open the padlock that kept the impound gates closed. Ignoring Castiel's offer to prove he could drive, Meg set Nyx in the car seat left in the back, waited for him to slide into the seat beside her and they were gone, shooting down the highway. It was easy then for Castiel to finish up several hexbags with the supplies Dean had given him and once he sat back and told her it was done, Meg relaxed.

Somewhat.

With the window rolled down and the crisp fall air stinging her skin, she actually enjoyed the illusion of freedom for a while. It was going to be a long drive to Montana but now that she no longer needed sleep, she didn't mind it as much.

The only reason why she even stopped every few hours was to shake out the numbness in her legs and to let Nyx stretch. Castiel sat in near silence the entire way up the familiar back roads she knew, reading his journal and occasionally writing something. His silence wore heavily on Meg's nerves but, as she reminded herself, she had asked for it. Even when they stopped for her for Nyx to use the restroom or get food, he didn't say much to her. He simply stayed close by and watched them both with a peculiar interest.

Meg had never been more unnerved by something so simple as him watching her like that.

It hadn't mattered at the time but as the hours clicked by she actually needed some form of conversation to keep herself awake and out of mind-dulling boredom. Once Nyx drifted off again, warmly wrapped up in a blanket and happily full with diner food, the demon turned on the radio to let the low hum of music fill the car.

Even that didn't help. It was far too quiet.

Castiel hadn't looked away from his book since their last stop but when she sighed for the twentieth time in five minutes, he cleared his throat.

"I can leave you for a while." He still didn't look up and Meg sighed, glancing over at him. He turned another page. "You have the hexbags, after all."

"No point in that." She let the Cougar decelerate a bit before she resumed the steady cruise down the road. "Nyx wakes up to find you gone, she'll ask questions."

"So you want me to stay for her?"

Meg shrugged and finally Castiel stopped reading to look at her. She struggled to ignore him and for the hundredth time gave herself an internal slap. The past week had been a bizarre sort of torture that she hadn't expected. It had been easier three years ago, before things had gone to hell and she was just the demon to his angel. Then it had been easy to screw 'em, leave 'em, but now it was something unfamiliar. She'd fucked him when she should have kept it to just screaming her head off and fighting him. He hadn't fought her, had pulled her in even, so she knew he had wanted her as well, but that didn't helped ease the tension or get rid of that feeling that they'd both made a massive mistake.

Meg was pretty sure that even after a long shower she had taken afterwards, that she had smelled him on her skin for days.

Instead of hating him, she hated herself for it. She'd actually felt weak for giving in and wanting something more than just hate and anger.

"This will just be too awkward in a few minutes," she muttered under her breath.

"We should have a conversation then," Castiel said, his voice almost too loud in the small space. "We need to find something to talk about."

Meg thought it over. "What was it like being human?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "We discussed this before. I was hoping we could discuss something trivial. I managed to learn small talk, you know."

The attempt to be funny fell a little flat though she gave him a tiny smile for it.

"Maybe it is better if we don't try then," he said, misinterpreting her smile for mockery. "The last time…"

"I-." Meg shook her head. "That was something that shouldn't have happened. Wrong moment, wrong time. It was stupid." Her admission made her wince when she saw the surprised look it earned her. "I'm just curious though."

He stared at her. "Curious? About me?"

"Not everyday an angel becomes a human."

He was quiet for a long time and she wondered if he was going to ignore her attempt at conversation.

"I was scared," Castiel admitted and Meg's eyes darted to him. "When I turned human. Suddenly I could feel pain, hunger and thirst. I would go days before I remembered I needed to drink or eat and I would be so weak." He shifted a little. "I was scared but I adapted."

"I bet the emotions scared you."

" Biological urges, the ones that come with being human, those frightened me. Suddenly wanting sex again, needing food and water, and actually sleeping. To need to do things instead of ignore them was strange." He rested his head back on the seat. "But all of those emotions I had experienced before. I'd felt sadness, friendship, hate, fear…. love."

They glanced at each other and Meg looked away first to focus on the road.

"Meg…"

"So why back to the Angels?" she interrupted. "I thought you were a secret human wannabe."

He took the leading question. "Because I wanted to finally help my family. My actions did bring about some of it and they needed help."

Realizing what he hadn't said, Meg looked away. "So?"

"So I hope I've done the right thing." He made a face. "We waged our wars in Heaven and Hell to bring back balance. We survived. But I'm still not welcome there, not really."

Meg drew a line on the centre of steering wheel. "That sucks for you."

"And for Nyx. If I could truly find my way in Heaven I could help protect her but here we are," his soft voice hardened, "as defenceless as before. I do not expect my request in Heaven to hold forever."

Meg said nothing but she felt his hopelessness as acutely as her own. Sooner or later, they could be up against Hell and the monsters, and she did not trust even the humans in this.

Unless there was a deal they could make.

Castiel was quiet again for a while before he turned in the passenger seat a little. "What about you? When you were in Heber Springs?"

Sensing he was trying to make peace with her, Meg forced herself to relax. "Day to day boredom. No skills in anything remotely legal. A boring life."

"Except for Nyx."

"Yeah."

He turned to look at the little girl sleeping in her car seat. Bundled up and sound asleep, she looked so at peace he smiled and relaxed a little. "I would have given anything to see you all before now."

"At what risk?" Meg muttered and he leaned back over to stare at her again.

"It is because I knew how vulnerable Nyx was that I did what I did. Though I think there might have been more to this. If Death could be found to explain…" He snapped his jaw shut and looked away.

"Death?"

Castiel sighed. "I spoke to Death, you know that. He was the one who warned me and I think it was him that knew you were about to be brought back. It was why I made it to you the night of the fire but not in time to stop you from being hurt."

"Why is Death interested in Nyx?"

"He never explained it to me." He sat back and sideways. "He was interested in you as well."

She laughed, a piercing sound that made Nyx murmur sleepily. "That's rich. Someone like Death interested in a lowly demon like me? Pretty sure I'm useless to someone like him."

But when she noticed Castiel not even smirking, she looked over and saw him studying her. She had to keep one eye on the traffic but she turned her head a few times when he didn't stop. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I think you are much more than that. I've thought that for a long time but you never seemed to believe it."

"Just a soldier in an army of one, Castiel."

"So was I but I've learned we all can be more than we believe."

Meg stared at the steering wheel and clenched it so tight that her knuckles turned white. "Thanks. I think."

"I meant it." He settled back down and stared at her still. "Meg?"

"Yeah?"

"I would like to say something without the risk of you tossing me out of the car."

"Well." She passed another car and then looked at him. "I can't really cut a sigil anyway with both hands on the wheel."

"I missed talking to you," he said abruptly and she sucked in a breath, not sure how to respond. He smiled, a little sadly, and looked out the window. "I can talk to Dean and Sam still but there is always that knowledge that we are too different, that I never was truly human. Even if it was just to hear you argue with me, even hate me… it's better than silence."

She was silent for so long that eventually he looked over, expecting her to be pulling over and tell him to walk the rest of the way. He knew her, knew she loathed anything that smacked of too much emotion but she was quiet.

"I don't hate you. Not really." It was said so quietly that he almost didn't believe she had said it. "Make more sense to me if I did and just took Nyx and ran. I wanted to but I don't hate you, Castiel."

He held his breath.

"But with what happened? Not sure how we can pull back from that. Hard to trust you not to leave again or find a way of hiding us that leads to a repeat. Not like we have time to mull it over anyway. Monsters ready to kill us, demons on our tail." She glimpsed a truck that appeared in her rear-view mirror. "Maybe if things had been different it would be easier."

She glanced at him and actually sighed. Staring back, he read her face as best as he could. When she visibly twitched at the way his hand came out to rest close to her leg, he pulled it back in understanding.

"I should have stopped," he offered. Meg didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Didn't offer you a choice, did I? We're both guilty. We can chalk it up to bad decisions we make when we're angry." When she looked again, he was still staring at her.

"I think it was the wrong time," he agreed hesitantly, leaving a world of implications in what he didn't say.

Meg leaned over and turned on the radio a little louder, bringing the conversation to an end before it really began. Leaning his head back, Castiel sighed and stared out the window and wondered how long it could be before things backfired again between them.

* * *

Meg wasn't surprised well into the next day that they were still being followed. They had pulled over for a rest at a highway park and so Nyx could burn off her restless energy. Experiencing for the first time at how a small child could be when cooped up, Castiel could only watch with bemusement at how Nyx chased blackbirds in the small green-space and laughed at the way they flew away. There were other children around but she ignored them to play by herself.

Sitting on the bench, Castiel watched her run and felt exhausted just by how much energy she seemed to have.

Nursing a cup of coffee, Meg stretched as she left the store after paying for the gas. She already longed to move out but the pick-up that had pulled in behind the Cougar was a bad sign and made her wait to decide what to do. She glanced over her shoulder at the demon in the shop. They were a few hours away from Whitefish and closing in, but she had a bad feeling over what was following them. Not monsters, which was a pity because she needed to see what was hunting them. These were demons. She recognized the signs but this one wasn't really following her. They were trying to track Castiel.

He noticed her immediately when she came back, though he never looked away from Nyx and the way she happily playing in the afternoon sun despite the chill in the air. At the hard nudge in his ribs, he looked up to see Meg's pointed stare.

He stiffened instantly with what he saw in her expression and looked in the direction she was staring. "Demons?"

"Gold star."

"I can…."

"No. You can't. I can."

Castiel flinched. "You can get to Whitefish."

"Take Nyx there. We're a short distance and you can take a hex bag with you to block them. I want to get some information. The hard way." She looked at him expectantly. Castiel looked ready to argue with her, she could see it in the way his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. "I'm trusting you with her."

He looked at the demons again. "I don't like this."

"I know what I'm doing and I don't want her to see this."

"And if you get into trouble?" he countered, trying to keep his voice low.

"You get her all to yourself, won't that be a treat?" she asked jokingly.

"No, it wouldn't." He reached into his coat and pulled out his angel sword. "Take this." Smirking, she took hold of the hilt with him and he held on to it for a moment to force her to look up at him. "You will be careful and you will call on me if there is trouble."

"As ever," she said and he glared at her as if knowing the truth. Meg dragged her eyes way from his and knelt down as Nyx came racing up, her hair in wild waves and her face flushed. She was dragging her unicorn through the dirt but didn't seem to care as she wrapped her arms around it. Meg noticed the demons trying to get a look at them and moved so she blocked the sight of her daughter.

"Nyx, you're gonna go with Castiel, okay?" she asked. Nyx looked up at him suspiciously and Meg, copying her, realized how gigantic Castiel did look from the height of a child.

"Don't wanna."

"Be a good girl and I'll be right behind you." Meg smiled wanly at the rebellious look she was being shot. All firm jaw and narrowed eyes. Definitely Castiel's look even if neither of them had noticed it before. "I'm going to make sure monsters aren't here to eat you."

Nyx's eyes widened and she looked up at Castiel.

"Go on." Meg encouraged and hesitantly Nyx reached out and took Castiel's hand. He held her tiny hand in his and took a deep breath. The slow curt nod he gave Meg spoke volumes and her stomach turned a little nervously at the warning in that look. He wasn't thrilled but he would let her have her choice in this.

It was when they were gone that Meg realized that she had never before let Nyx go as freely as she just had.

* * *

The cabin made a nice, familiar home away from home for them and Sam set about lighting the rooms up so they could get some warmth and relief from the darkness. With winter coming, the cabin was going to be colder than before and it set under his thick jacket to make him shiver. Ignoring the pain that was throbbing in his head, Sam found a small corner heater and whacked it hard to cause it to sputter to life. Blasted by heat, he leaned down and ignored the sulphurous smell as his chilled skin warmed from the heat.

Dean threw his bags on the table and Benny followed close behind, plopping down on the sofa dramatically.

"I am never doin' that again," the vampire said with a low groan, cracking his neck. "That ride was too long."

"Wasn't that bad," Dean pointed out as he headed for the kitchen. "Could have made you sit in the trunk."

"Your pal Garth nearly chopped off my head," Benny snapped. The memory of it still made him testy.

"You nearly bit him."

"Okay, okay, enough," Sam said, holding a hand to his head. "I have a headache after a day of Dean's music and your griping so let's can it, okay?"

He grabbed his bag and began to dig through it, looking for his aspirin .

"We're gonna need to stock up!" Dean shouted from the kitchen. "We're out of anything good."

Sam's gruff agreement was muffled as he shook out several aspirin and dry-swallowed them.

The front door suddenly opened and Benny opened one eye to see Castiel and Nyx standing in the frame. Wide-eyed, the little girl swallowed and nervously backed up a step into Castiel. He murmured something to her and walked in, gently pushing her forward. Without moving, Benny watched the way she reached up and held onto a bit of Castiel's coat for comfort, but the angel didn't seem to notice her grip.

"Cas!" Dean smiled and wiped his hands off on his jeans. He winked at Nyx and she smiled shakily back, clutching her stuffed unicorn close to her face. "And the world's littlest Abomination. Where's Meg?"

"There was trouble on the road."

"Trouble?"

"She noticed demons following us. Insisted she take care of it."

"And you let her?" Sam asked from the other room. He smiled at Nyx and, taking it as an invitation, she walked over to hand him her unicorn. He picked it up for her and when she pointed at the table he set it down to keep it clean.

"Meg was insistent. I think she thought this would be for the best."

"Yeah?" Dean shifted his shoulders. "I thought you wouldn't let her go."

Castiel sighed. "Please don't. I am already second-guessing what I did. I'm sure she'll call for me if she needs my help."

"Yeah and let's hope she does," Sam muttered so Nyx wouldn't hear. But she was looking around the cabin and paying them no attention.

Scrubbing tiredly at her cheeks, she sneezed at the herbal smell from their last summoning they had done here and wandered over to the walls. Her eyes were wide as she stared at all the sigils sprayed on the walls as if she knew what they meant. When she began to back away, Dean and Sam glanced at each other and the older Winchester cleared his throat.

"Nyx? What do you think?"

"Scary." Sam felt her brush by him as she quickly retreated around him and noticed that she was looking at Castiel as she hid behind Sam. Castiel, just as confused by her fear of the sigils as the rest of them were, shook his head at Sam's curious look and looked out the window, absurdly hoping to see Meg's old Cougar flying up the drive.

* * *

The foreclosed house near the highway had been perfect, and it had been easy to drag a demon in there. It had been years since she had tortured another demon but, as Meg found out, some things were actually like riding a bike. It was easy to find pressure points, to find the spots that made a demon tick. Sometimes she pushed just to hear them scream but she kept her focus on learning as much as possible.

Which wasn't much.

The demon she had tied up actually did know nothing. For once, she had a dud. While she would have tortured him for fun at one time, now there was no real pleasure in it.

Her own distraction wasn't helping.

Meg's thoughts kept turning to Nyx and Castiel. She had the urge to get back to them quickly because for once she didn't know what else to do. No matter how much she wanted to bury those thoughts and forget them, she wasn't successful. She knew she needed to focus and she knew she was failing. Judging by the young demon begged her with his eyes, she was slipping up. Torture was about giving them hope it would end and not giving into her victim's needs. His body arched a little when Meg absentmindedly cut deeper.

"Kill me," he begged aloud, voice gurgling. "I don't… p—please… kill…"

Meg groaned in annoyance.

If anyone asked, she would claim later her angel sword slipped into his heart by accident, instead of as an act of mercy.

After the last of the demon sparked out, she threw the body in the brush outside and ignored the sound of scavengers already pulling at it. The demon's meatsuit had been a lost cause anyway; brain dead under the weight of a long-term possession. But the demon and the human he'd ridden weren't what troubled her. Just that she had wasted time at all only to find out that he hadn't known a thing, damn him.

Meg took an hour to herself to decide what to do, watching the blood leak out under the brush and the way feral dogs gathered to rip it apart. It was when one sly dog tried to steal a bit of meat from another that she had the idea that just wouldn't go away. Especially when the two dogs tore into one another over the corpse.

It reminded her of someone.

"Might as well," she muttered to herself. "Things can't get any weirder."

Thanks to Castiel, the car was luckily well-stocked with ingredients for spells.

Drawing a trap in the centre of the dilapidated house's front room, she threw the herbs into the bowl and struck the match, listening to its hiss as her power unfolded to increase the power behind the spell while she murmured the summons. Her eyes flicked to black as she felt the gust of wind, the creep of power up her spine, and a sense of forbidding. Something she dismissed; she knew exactly what his game was and she wouldn't underestimate him again.

"Well, well, well. A whore calls and I come running. Rather typical, really." Crowley's nearly pleasant voice made her turn around to face the Crossroads demon in the decaying living room. He took one look at her and immediately moved a step forward, meeting the barrier of the devil's trap she'd tortured the other demon in. Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Oh, your boyfriend did get you some wonderful tricks again."

"This one is all me. Notice the me not stabbing you part though?" Meg grinned. "We live, we grow."

"Cute." He turned slowly around the circle before focussing back on Meg. "So. You end up being alive these long three years, living that apple pie life of Mommy Dearest until someone turned you back to full demon mode, and now you have the gall to summon your betters."

"Oh, Crowley." She grinned and leaned against a table. "If I wanted to do that, I'd be calling on someone else. Maybe Abaddon."

Crowley only smirked at her.

"You are adorable when you think you've said something clever. What do you want?" His crafty gaze travelled over her. "You're looking tired."

"Been a long day. I'll cut to the chase: what's going on in Hell?"

"Hell?" He rubbed at his beard. "Haven't been there in a few weeks. But I hear tell it is a place of splendour and blood right now." He sniffed.

Meg sliced through the air with her hand and he chortled, feeling the immediate pressure on his ribs. The power behind the blow threatened to split him open from the inside out and Crowley lifted a hand, signalling his surrender. Meg's fingers unclenched and the pressure ended. When he recovered, she raised her eyebrow and waited patiently.

"Your big sister is being run ragged but Hell is slowly pushing back the monsters. All one big distraction and anyone who knows anything is staying out of the way," he said in a rush.

"But the monsters are there," she muttered.

"In the flesh. Well, not really. They've learned a few tricks." Crowley shrugged a shoulder.

"So why aren't the demons after us?" Meg picked up the angel sword from the table. "I'm pretty sure I could slice it out of you so don't tell me too fast."

That he wasn't intimidated by her showed in how he put his hands in his pockets and looked her up and down.

"What is Castiel's guess?" he asked curiously.

Meg's face closed off into a stony mask. One Crowley knew well; he knew a weak spot when he saw one and his dark eyes glinted with delight as he decided to twist the proverbial knife.

"You know, love, I never figured out why you were so hard up for a slice of angel-food cake. You were Alastair's promising student, Azazel's pet… likely would have been a lapdog for Lucifer too. What's Castiel? I admit as a human he was perhaps a little less annoying, without that moral stick up his ass, but as an angel?" Crowley gave a disgusted grunt. "Meg, you are a masochist. Through and through."

"None of this is telling me what I need to know."

"So you're not denying it?"

"Castiel has nothing to do with this." Meg dragged the angel sword on the table and put it down to pick up a regular hunting knife that'd been in her trunk.

"Oh, you're telling me that the angel's broodmare slipped the halter?"

The connotation only made her eyes narrow a little.

"Crowley?" She tapped the knife on her hand and put pressure him internally with a wiggle of her fingers. "Some time today?"

Her sudden burst of patience paid off as Crowley's frustration finally capped off.

"I don't know!" he snapped. "All I know is that Hell right now is Purgatory's bitch thanks to some very angry monsters whose mommy decided to get a slice of vengeance."

"How?"

"Possession. I'm not sure how but the bloody bastards are stealing our bag." He waved his fingers and the pressure on his sides decreased a little. "I've lost twenty good demons just today to this stupidity. And now? Now they're hunting our kind! It is absurd!"

Meg looked out the window and thought about Castiel, wondering if he knew about this. "So that's why you stopped hunting us."

"One reason. Bigger things to worry about than a whore and her bastard." Crowley said it so casually that his words finally penetrated the other demon's calm. Meg slashed through the air and cut open his face with the hunting knife. He howled in pain as the blade dug deep into his cheek and twisted. Satisfied by his screaming, Meg jerked it back out and grinned at the stunned look on his face. Without the support of her power, he fell to the ground and panted for breath.

"I think we're going to have to strike a deal." She knelt across from him. "I'll stay away from you and yours. That'll keep the angels and monsters away from you specifically. You stay away from us as payment. Make it for a month. Then we're back to normal, trying to kill each other mode, 'kay?"

He spat out a gob of congealed blood and ruined cheek tissue before his face started to heal on its own. "What are you going to do?"

"Lot more than you can. I bet this Eve wants your blood badly. Just for kicks. So if you go hiding, I can find you and bring her to you. Or we can play nice for a while. Monsters are after me already, I don't want to deal with Hell as well. You've still got pull, Sam told me." She watched him eye her suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Better the Devil you know." Meg didn't smile, the weight of her decision to bargain with Crowley causing her to lose the typical smirk that had been tugging the corner of her lips.

Crowley met her eyes. "Ordinarily I need a kiss and a contract."

"I don't kiss on the mouth anymore," she said and he grinned, opening his mouth to say something. She snapped her fingers. "Say it and I cut out your tongue."

"Fine. How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain."

Meg leaned in and held out her hand. Crowley put his hand immediately into hers and she braced, ready for him to try to pull her in. But all they felt was the snare of their demonic powers curling around each other, sealing the bargain. A temporary one but it would work.

Meg could use the time it gave her.

She pulled free, wiping her hand on her jacket, and stood up. "I'd suggest you be on the lookout. Azazel is on the loose, according to the Winchesters. And he never liked you."

The King of the Crossroads stared at her, unaware of that information but he covered his ignorance with a smile.

"Oh don't worry about me, I know how to lie low." Crowley stood up and Meg drew her toe across the chalk line, still watching him warily. "Just one of many things that we share in common, Meg."

When she didn't answer, he sniffed importantly. "I'll see what big sister has to say but consider my men called off. But I'm warning you. The minute you double cross me, I'll come for you."

"That's pretty inevitable," she said as he moved to leave. Crowley gave her a smirk and disappeared. Meg leaned back and sighed.

Hell, how she missed the Apocalypse some days.


	7. Prey (When Angels Surrender)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and & Eve begin to move their plans into action, hungry for their revenge on Castiel and the Winchesters. Benny’s secretive plans make Sam uncomfortable with the risk that he and Dean might be taking by trusting a monster.

**Part 7: Prey (When Angels Surrender)**

_Nyx dreamed. Dreamed of waves crashing against white sand in frothy droves and of bright sunlight that was cold._

_This place was so cold!_

_She started to shake, wanting to be safe in bed with a warm blanket snug around her. She was sure she heard someone shouting her name but when she turned to look there was no one  behind her. There was only more white sand and waves sounding like thunder, frightening her._

_Nyx dreamed of a beach. Or what she thought was a beach. She knew the word instinctively, the way she knew that the waves that crashed against the shore should have been welcoming her home. That the sun should have been warm._

_But instead, she was cold and terrified. She was alone and scared because there was no one here to protect her._

_To her right there was a glimmer of light and then a man in black was beside her, holding a black bag and a cane. The strangest sense that she knew him, that he’d help her, made Nyx only stare up into his dark eyes and hope he’d protect her. Clicking his tongue a few times, he drew a happy face in the sand with the end of his cane before he smiled down at her. A thin bony hand reached for hers._

_Hesitantly, she held her hand out and grasped his. His skin was cold, as cold as her mother’s, and he didn’t hold her hand as tightly as she wanted. He still smiled though she was obviously afraid and she gripped his hand tighter._

_The man in black saw her trembling lip and the tears in her eyes._

“ _Now, now. There is no need to be afraid. You were born to places like these, remember?” he asked her and she nodded even though she was still frightened and didn’t know what he was talking about. He wasn’t here to protect her and somehow she knew that. Nyx stepped back, tiny in the shadow of Death, and looked around to find a way back to her mother._

_There was another flash of light and she found herself standing beside a small, beautiful woman with red hair streaked liberally with black and silver. Her smile was gentle though and she actually seemed happy to see her._

_ "So you were the reason." She knelt down and reached out to grasp the child’s tiny hand. "Hello, Nyx. Do you know who I am?" _ _ Without waiting for her answer, she squeezed Nyx’s hand in a warm, tight grip that brought her some comfort. “You’ve been taking good care of your mommy, right?” _

_She nodded and the woman smiled, her hand moving to stroke her smooth cheek._

“ _That’s my girl. Be brave. It’s almost time for you to be something more than just a child.”_

_There was a third flash of light and they were gone, taking with them the warmth and protection she had felt for just a moment. Nyx realized how alone she was in this place that frightened her more than the bunker ever had, more than the place the angel had brought her to after leaving her mother._

_This place was cold and empty without them. She wanted to wake up to find her mother, waiting to make her laugh, to touch her with that dark power she knew her mother had. Power that would protect her._

_But all she saw when she looked around was miles of sand and water._

_No matter how hard she cried and called for her mother, she wasn’t there and she was frightened and alone. She wanted her family, all of them, and what they could protect her with._

_She was so scared and she wanted to wake up._

—

“I still don’t like that it is taking Meg this long to come back,” Castiel muttered to himself, eyeing the clock. An hour past midnight and his attempts to call her cellphone had come up with out-of-service warnings and then voicemail.  He almost had the feeling she was doing it deliberately.

As Dean had pointed out though, with Benny sleeping off his latest packet of blood in the basement, they had time to wait. The vampire’s body was still recovering from its rebirth, the flesh still rebuilding to former strength and his hungers only now getting under his control. He hadn’t actually needed more blood than what Dean had given him earlier. But he had such an odd way of looking at Nyx that had made Castiel uncomfortable enough to go and find blood for him so he would go and sleep off his latest feed rather than stare at the little girl.

With a paternal instinct he hadn’t expected to have, Castiel had checked to be sure Nyx was safe in a spare bed with everything she wanted after he had locked Benny in the basement. No one had said much about their arrival anyway. The Winchesters were more obsessed with snapping at each other in a brotherly way than worrying about an angel and his child. Nyx had been too tired by the long trip to really throw a tantrum about being put to bed early with just a little bit of food. It left them all alone, the way it used to be. 

Dean had noticed Castiel’s agitation as the hours dragged by but he was more concerned with cleaning their weapons while Sam researched Eve once again. At Castiel’s second comment in ten minutes about Meg, both of them looked up at the door as if expecting to see the demon breezing in. When nothing happened, Dean shrugged and looked down the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun he was cleaning for Sam.

“Trust me, she can handle herself,” Dean said as he squinted down the barrel.

Sam glanced up from his books and reached out. With a rough yank, he grabbed the gun from Dean and unloaded it quickly, causing his brother to blink as Sam rolled a shell into his hand. Glaring at him, Sam handed him back the gun without a word and he rolled his eyes as he took it back. Dean glanced back at Castiel as he rubbed a rag over the short barrel, ignoring Sam’s mutterings that Dean would get himself killed one day. 

“You gave her a bit of real freedom, Cas. You don’t think she’ll take the time to enjoy it?”

Castiel stalked back over to the couch and sat down. “I didn’t trap her.”

“He didn’t say you did. She’s pretty devoted to Nyx. I mean, have to give her a little bit of credit. Give the demon a cause and she’s pretty good at being loyal to it, but she needed time to herself. Even if it was to torture demons,” Sam said as he jotted down some notes in his journal.

“You both are encouraging this?” Castiel demanded and the Winchesters shrugged.

“Not really. If you made me pick between Meg being pissed and monsters following us? Monsters can be scarier,” Sam admitted.

"Yeah, let’s pretend that’s remotely true, Sam. Pretty sure Meg could make us suffer a lot more just by snarking our ears off.”  Dean set the gun down and started on his knife. “Look, if we can get some traps laid out soon and lay low, it’ll be easier. Long as we keep Nyx safe, right?” 

They all knew they had to keep their voices down because of the thin walls of the cabin. It was why they were trying so hard not to be loud for once. Nyx had been restless and not wanting to sleep without Meg being around. After filling her up with food and settling her down, Sam had managed to get her to bed finally. Castiel had sensed her distress but thought there was nothing he could do for her anyway.

Dean took a long drink from his coffee and then he caught sight of something moving in the kitchen. He set down the last of the weapons and tossed his rag on the table. Sam looked as well and, noticing their staring, Castiel turned a little on the couch. His eyes widened at the small shadow moving in the dark kitchen and he leaned forward a little to get a better look.

Nyx stood in the doorway with Sam’s old comforter wrapped her like a massive soft shell. Under her mop of dark hair, her blue eyes were wide-open and, as bundled as she was, they all could see her clutching her stuffed unicorn. Castiel stared at her, and noticed the way the comforter was shaking around her. She was frightened but he hadn’t heard her call out once.

“Nyx?” he whispered and her eyes darted to him. She padded out a bit further into the room and as she came closer they saw that her eyes were wet and shining. Tear tracks and a red nose let them all know she’d been crying for a while. Her eyes flicked between them all, looking scared, and Dean reached out to touch her head.

“Bad dream, kiddo? Scary monsters?"

She nodded, and they saw her bite her lower lip as she looked around the room as if searching for something.

“It’s okay, Nyx. We’ll keep you safe,” Dean said, smiling at her.

Sam looked at Dean and then at her. “You know we’ll protect you, right?”

Again a nod. Both Winchesters watched her eyes dart to Castiel but he was looking at the ceiling as if praying for answers. He didn’t notice her moving and Dean glanced at Sam, holding a finger up to his lips to keep him quiet.

Castiel shut his eyes and sighed. He’d hoped Meg would be back by now and Nyx wouldn’t be so scared by what was happening.

The weird feeling that someone was watching him made him open his eyes again. When he looked back down, his daughter was standing at his knees. She was still wrapped in the worn comforter, looking as if she was trying to stay hidden from the world. Her blue eyes blinked up at him and he stared back, not sure what she wanted from him.

Nyx didn’t seem very sure herself as she patted his knees with her hands. Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean for help but Nyx gave an insistent tug on his pant-leg that drew his attention back to her.

Then she was crawling up into his arms as best as she could, using his legs and the couch as a ladder, and he leaned back to give her room, eyes widening as she gave a determined little grunt when she got stuck halfway. Reaching out, he helped her up so that she was no longer stuck and as he held her he felt how fragile her little body was under his strong hands. Her body twisted a bit and she gave a satisfied smile when he set her on his knees.

Moving forward, Nyx knelt on his lap as she stared at him and between them he felt the press of the stuffed toy on his stomach. The obvious fear and need in her eyes made him stare at her, wondering why now she was coming to him. Castiel couldn’t see what she wanted from him when Sam or Dean were better at  _ this _ than he was.

Until he felt it.

An unmistakable  _ tug. _

Suddenly between them there was that connection that had been so strong at her birth but had been threadbare when he’d come back into her life. Now it surged back and wound around them, and he realized she wanted to trust him. That this was an odd, childishly different way of letting him know she needed him to protect her.

Without thinking, Castiel let his arms widen a little and Nyx scooted forward at the invitation. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. Bewildered, he merely held her and heard the breathy sob she gave as she cuddled into him. She began to cry and he felt her soft little body push into him as she tried to get him to comfort her by holding him tightly.  As a human such moments of open affection had been awkward for Castiel, even though he had learned how to cope eventually, and as an angel he should have found it difficult again.

He ignored the memories of three years ago when he heard her crying. Resting his chin against the top of her head, Castiel wrapped his arms around her tiny body and held her as she cried. Nyx’s arms stayed latched around his neck and she took in shuddering breaths, muttering about her dreams as her tears wet his shirt collar. Castiel listened to her as he held her tight and tried without words to let her know it was just a dream. That she was safe. 

But through the sudden surge of connection he felt what she’d seen. Dreams of water and drowning, of being stolen away and left alone with no one to save her. Dreams no child that age should have.

Castiel rubbed at her back and let her cry, murmuring to her when he felt her shaking. He breathed in slowly, trying to steady her with his own strong heartbeat, and he felt her respond, her heartbeat matching his with stunning accuracy. The sensation comforted him as well and he realized he had done the right thing. Nyx’s small fingers curled around his collar and then her palm flattened over his chest, as if searching for that steady heartbeat.

“It’s okay. I’m here," Castiel whispered, not even aware of the Winchesters anymore as Sam pulled Dean away to give them time alone. He pressed his face into her shoulder. "I’ll protect you."

He stroked her hair and rocked her a little. As her crying continued into a softer weeping, Castiel closed his eyes and let his Grace flow over her like a protective shield.

“I’ll protect you, Nyx. You’re safe with me.”

—

  _This time the dream felt different. The sunshine was a little warmer, the breeze not as bitter cold, and the light no longer fuzzy at the edges. Even the water seemed calmer and she sat on the beach to let it soak her tiny toes happily._

_ Here she was safe. Here she could be happy. _ _   Something brushed over her in feathery wisps and drew her close against a warm body, letting her feel warm and comforted. She knew she was going to be protected now.  _

_Out of the corner of her eye she could see that the wings enwrapping her were attached to a form too bright to see without having to shield her eyes._

_He was here._

_She was safe again._

_Now she felt him there the way he had been before and knew he’d protect her. The same way she felt her mother close by every day until today._

_Curling into the warmth holding her so tight, she closed her eyes and started to fall asleep even in this dream. But part of her still longed for that shadow that would keep her just as safe as the light. She just wanted to feel completely enveloped again by their protection._

_She only wanted them both to be with her._

—

The cabin hadn’t changed that much, in her opinion. Patched up maybe — she was sure the wall at the front was new— but still the same rustic dump it always had been to her. The backwoods in the middle–of-nowhere and still she managed to find it just from memory. Meg pulled her car alongside the Impala and then stood outside, staring at the building as she told herself for the millionth time to make up her mind. It took her a while to get the nerve to go in. Now that she was nearly back to normal, every instinct and memory told her to run. Nyx would be safe for now. She could leave because what threatened her was not the girl but the angel.

That damn angel muddled everything.

Meg shook her head and groaned, looking to the night sky for answers. Of course, there was nothing there but starlight. Nothing to give her a hint as to what to do.

Even if she ran, there would be nothing to give her a reason to still fight except for her own purposes. Then, of course, there was…

_ Damn, she really was stuck _ .

Taking in a deep breath, she found the spare key under the porch step and opened the door. The low hum of the old television and its glow made her roll her eyes as she set down her bag on the ground. It was easy to tell what the Winchesters thought was dinner, judging by the pizza boxes littering the table.

When she turned around, the sight of the two bodies wedged together on the couch made her stop and stare. Castiel was sprawled out on the couch, stretched out from end to end. Cuddled up on his chest was a lump of comforter and, knowing her daughter like she did, Meg knew it was Nyx beneath the covering. Both of them were sound asleep; even when she turned the television off neither of them moved.

Sam had told her that the one habit Castiel seemed to retain from being human was his sleeping habit. He liked to sleep. Not that she had been better years ago; Meg remembered nearly nine months where she had slept so much it had been surprising for a demon. Maybe it was Nyx’s influence that made it so easy to sleep.

Moving as quietly as she could, she stood next to the couch and pulled the edge of the comforter back. Nyx had her stuffed toy cuddled close, with her cheek pressed against Castiel’s chest and her mess of wavy hair hiding her face. Unable to stop herself, Meg reached out and pushed the hair away from Nyx’s eyes, noticing the tear stains on her cheeks. Letting her power gently touch into Nyx’s mind, she felt the staining remnants of a nightmare within. 

But for the first time, there was something else there. Protecting her mind from the nightmares and letting her sleep.

_ Grace _ . 

A Grace she knew so well.

“She was upset and wanted to stay with me,” Castiel said suddenly. The low timbre of his voice was startling enough that Meg jerked her hand away from the hair she’d been mindlessly stroking, for some reason feeling guilty over it. When she looked up, he was watching her with his eyes half-open. “I didn’t have the heart to move her when she fell asleep.”

“She should be sleeping in a bed,” she said and he looked down at the child on his chest.

“I didn’t mind. She wanted me to stay with her.” He sat up a little and Nyx murmured, still deeply asleep, and he moved his arms around her to keep her close. “You came back.”  

“Of course I did,” Meg snapped, going to the armchair. “I have Nyx here. Remember?”

“She was safe.” Castiel looked down at the sleeping face and smiled a little. “You know that.”

“I know.” The demon sighed and rubbed at her arms. “The demons are moving out. I nearly didn’t escape from being followed.”

“You could have called for me.”

“There’s a lot I’m supposed to do,” she grumbled. “Where are the Winchesters and big broody vamp?”

“Sleeping and downstairs.”

“All together? Kinky.” Ignoring his exasperated sigh, she sat down and stared at Nyx. “What kind of nightmare did she have?”

“Of the Lethe, I think. She wasn’t very clear but she was scared. I felt it." He adjusted the little girl so she was tucked between his side and the couch, and missed the way Meg’s face closed up a little, as if to block the thought of the Lethe. “She was scared."

Meg eyed Nyx’s tear-stained face. “She’s been having more nightmares.”

“She’s dreamed before, I assume.”

“Starting to happen more often though.” Meg dropped her head, rotating her shoulders and rubbing at her neck to ease the tension. “Sure, that’s a great sign right now. All I goddamn need,” she muttered as she stripped off her battered leather jacket and tossed it on the coffee table.

Castiel watched her get up and stalk off to the front door, knowing that there was something else wrong just by the tense way she moved. Murmuring to Nyx that he’d be back, he tucked her down on the couch and settled the blanket around her, letting her curl into the side of the couch where the cushions were still warm. She made a sound and tucked around her toy, mumbling in her sleep. After a quick glance to the rear of the house where Dean and Sam were asleep into the spare beds, he followed Meg out onto the porch.

The sight of Meg sitting on the rickety wood step was somehow familiar. Another state, another house, maybe it would even have been the same moment. All that they needed was the threat of Lucifer or Crowley to make it similar to before. It made him pause to really look at her, to feel a nostalgic loneliness for that moment years ago.  Tucking his coat around his body, he quickly sat beside her and rubbed his palms together against the chill in the air. The woods around them were quiet but he noticed how Meg seemed to look everywhere but at him.

With a sudden flick of her wrist, there was a flash of silver and she rolled the angel sword toward him. “Thanks. I needed it.”

He inhaled deeply, smelling the demon blood on it. “Keep it.” He saw her look and shrugged. “You have no other weapon on you. Or do you?”

“If I did?” she asked and he looked her up and down, as if trying to check for something.

“I’m not sure where you would be hiding it,” he said and Meg snorted.

“Starting to think you picked up on how to be sarcastic over the past few years. Good for you.”

“It was better than sinking too far into depression.” He watched her palm the blade, spinning it across her hand before it disappeared to be tucked safely into her belt. “Though that happened as well.”

“Where there any good moments?” Meg asked and he noticed she hadn’t looked at him again. “When you were human?”

Castiel shrugged. “I made friends, tried to live as much as I could, experience what I could. I had to do something. Life couldn’t end. But there were times when I closed my eyes and fell asleep, and…” He swallowed and looked at the ground before them. “I was with you.”

Meg didn’t say anything to that.

“It made everything temporary and I know it ruined what chance I had of finding that normal life I longed for when it became too much.” He looked at his shoes as if searching for answers. “The hunting, the being on the run, the fear, I wanted it to end and I should have hated that I couldn’t end it. But I still enjoyed those moments when I remembered those nine months.”

“Castiel,” she started uncomfortably, rubbing at her arms as if to warm herself.

“You never call me any other name now, did you know that?” He looked at her sidelong. “Not ‘feathers’ or ‘tree topper’. I haven’t heard ‘cloud hopping pansy’. I even miss being called Clarence.”

“Clarence meant something I’m not sure I believe anymore.”

Castiel had seen the movie one Christmas, and neither of the Winchesters had realized what it meant to him. For him, Meg’s confession struck a chord that stung worse than he expected. “I see.”

Meg leaned back on her arms and stared up at the sky. “Not sure you do.”

Despite the awkward silence, neither moved from the front step until the dawn started to creep over the treetops.

~~

“Nothing like a vacation,” Kevin muttered to himself as he slid his fingers over the neck of his whisky bottle. Garth had rebuilt part of Bobby’s old place and the  junkyard still sheltered the hunters’ best hideout. It was familiar and homey so the Winchesters of course had loved it and in contrast there were times Kevin couldn’t stand it. He hated the way they’d reminisce every time they came here, the way he was told about the ‘good old days’, and ultimately reminded that no matter their pretty words about being part of them, he had always come last into their extended family. 

It was quiet now; even though hunters were in and out constantly, he was left in peace to laze around.

If the brothers thought he was going to work for them mindlessly still, they had another thing coming. A few years ago he would have been tricked into it. He could have been bought by words of family and love and sacrifice but he was older now, wiser. He’d seen a hell of a lot more than either of them knew.

As he often did when the day was dragging, he dozed on Garth’s couch and pretended that he was somewhere else. The weeks of wandering all over the states had given him perspective, much more than he had ever had before. He learned how to enjoy a few moments to himself and how the struggle to survive would be his biggest worry. Demons, angels, monsters; none of that mattered as much as himself and what he could do.

He had value, after all, and once he found Chuck again he would prove it to God himself.

The knowledge that he had met God and still couldn’t tell a soul had worn on him; it was a secret that had been burned into him and as surely as having his lips sewn shut he’d been threatened to never speak about it.

It had played on his mind, the idea that God had had a mission for him and he had been, for a time, special. He had fulfilled that role, and yet he was still stuck in this role of a prophet. There were no back ups to replace him, no retiring, and, in moments when he was truly hopeless, there was no chance that he could even off himself. He had tried and failed so many times; he’d once consumed so many pills that he had emptied out his mother’s cabinet back in Arkansas. Frustrated, she’d taken him to the hospital and left him there, warning him to grow up and become the man he should be.

She’d wanted more for him than being some drunk prophet. She’d been so disappointed in him when he’d risked Nyx’s life to try to let his visions come true.

God, just the thought of her still hurt so much.

“Mom,” Kevin whispered and his mind suddenly became consumed by the idea of her overhead, pinned to the ceiling and dead. His last true memory of her. He could still see the flames licking over her dead flesh and consuming it hungrily.

Unbeknownst to him, Kevin’s eyes began to glow with orange light as he saw it happening all over again. He could feel the heat and smell the stench of burning hair and crisping bone. Stuck in the vision, he watched as the flames suddenly birthed strange twisted beasts of grey shadow and scarred flesh, shrieking down at him as he stared. They crawled over his mother’s body and screamed as the flames curled over their own flesh.

Paralyzed in his terror, he watched as they began to gnaw at her flesh and a larger monster sank its fangs deep into her neck as Linda Tran still stared down at him. Slowly her eyes went black and the smoking ruin of her flesh became as wilted and decayed as a mummified corpse. Her open mouth suddenly moved and he heard her voice screeched at him.

_You can stop this, Kevin!_

The words penetrated the vision more thoroughly than a slap across his face.

His head jerked off the arm of the sofa and he gasped for breath as he still stared at the ceiling. She was gone, the monsters and the fire gone, and the only thing remaining was the sound of Garth in the next room. Wiping at his sweaty forehead, Kevin let himself sag back down and he pushed the heel of his hand against his forehead to try to relieve the headache he could feel starting there.

At first, he thought Garth was still talking to himself until he heard the steady clomp of hiking boots and guns being set down. Which meant hunters if he knew the sounds as well as he did.

“Listen, guys, I told you. The Winchesters have this. Get back to Kentucky. Hunt some werewolves or something.”

“We’re expected to trust them? Look, I get it. They have an angel buddy and made some deals, killed some big bads. Big fucking deal. They nearly got us all killed last year when they decided to lead us into some stupid war of angels versus demons. Turned out it was just some big ruse Dean had to protect Sam anyway,” a woman said. Her voice was high pitched with anger and Kevin tried to guess who she was.

“They said this kid isn’t a threat.”

“Rumour is that this is a demon’s kid. That’s a big fuckin’ threat!” a man with a heavy Midwest drawl snapped. Lying on the couch, Kevin decided to stay as quiet as he could. He needed to know how much these hunters knew. Not for Dean or Sam but because he had to keep Nyx safe now. His mother would want that, he knew it. 

“The demon is one even I know. I’ve met her. She’s sort of on our side.” He heard Garth’s nervous laugh. “I think.”

“No demon is on our side. Remember that Crowley demon? Said he was on our side till he got a better offer.” The woman was moving closer to the living room and Kevin held himself as still as possible so he wasn’t noticed. “We’re going to trust a demon? Garth, what the hell are you thinking!”

“There’s an angel involved. From what I heard, he’s keeping her in line.”

“I heard it was Castiel. The same angel who was a human for a while and managed to still fuck everything up!” 

“Come on, Em, that’s not fair!” Garth protested.

“There is a Cambion out there, a demon’s child, and we’re not hunting it?” the man shouted. “Who the hell’s side are you on, Garth?!?”

“I’m on our side!” 

The power in the thin man’s voice deafened their shouting and Kevin’s eyebrows rose a little. He heard a creak and knew that Garth was sitting down.

“This demon came back from the dead, she’s survived four regimes in Hell. You think getting to her will be easy? I’m keeping you alive by telling you to leave it alone. The Winchesters can handle this.”

“Yeah? Well, we can handle ourselves. Come on, Dave. We’ll leave Garth here to go soft all on his own.” Em dropped something off that clunked loudly when it fell to the floor. Kevin could hear Garth’s protests as he followed them out the door. But his own eyes were on the ceiling again as he breathed out very slowly. Instead of his mother’s death, this time new visions flashed before his eyes.

_A monster tearing into a man and tasting his blood as his flesh was pulled apart viciously…_

_A woman shrieking for mercy. Smoke flowing into her body as she was possessed by a demon and then leapt upon by something hideous that buried its teeth into her neck…_

Kevin knew what he should do.  He should run after them, warn them about the monsters and what was bound to happen if they didn’t go back to Kentucky. He would have run after them three years ago to save their lives.

But all he did was curl back down and fall asleep instead, leaving them to their fate.

~~

That he found the little child who was now part of the Winchesters’ group fascinating was no secret and Benny didn’t bother to hide it. Even when he was supposed to be watching the Winchesters lay out traps close to the perimeter of the cabin, he watched the girl.

With innocent interest, Nyx followed Sam around, asking him questions that mostly began with and ended in “Why?”. Dean often goaded her into it just to watch Sam’s have to struggle to answer the endless questions.

But for not often being around children, Sam handled it well.

Benny thought it was a little strange as he watched the way the brothers protected her from seeing the real purpose of the traps. They were just for “games”, according to Dean. It didn’t stop her from asking questions about why the knots had to be knotted just so or why Sam kept hanging iron bars around in the trees. The vampire suspected the child was far more aware of what was happening than they realized. 

As he finished with the Impala, tossing in a bag with spare clothes he was borrowing and a few blood-packs, Benny noticed Meg standing on the porch. He knew that the demon noticed him as well but this time she didn’t overreact. Merely nodded at him when their eyes met and then went back to pretending he didn’t exist.

But Castiel was nowhere in sight and he just couldn’t resist.

“Your little girl is a cute sprite,” Benny commented loudly as he zipped up the duffel bag. Dean only knew part of his plans and the less anyone else knew the better. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to entertain himself before he left.

“She’s a monster,” Meg corrected and smirked as the child started a new round of “Why?” to Dean this time. The human’s exasperated groan was worth it. “But it is pretty fun to watch the Winchesters cope.”

“That likely makes the demon in you happy.”

“You have no idea. Used to resort to torturing them myself but unfortunately that’s on the break as long as the angel watches me.” She watched Benny come up beside her, abandoning his packing in favour of her company.

“He’s not around now though, is he?” he said flirtatiously. Meg looked up at him, tilted her head on the side, and gave him a wry half smile.

“Are you offering something, vampire? You and I both know demons and monsters don’t mix any better than angels and demons.”

Benny put an arm beside her head and leaned a little towards her, too close for it to be casual. “Seems like you ‘mixed’ a bit at one point.”

“You know what I meant,” she said and looked back at Nyx. “She’s a one off.”

“You’re still here though.”

“I’m here but I’m not dumb. Do you know how old I actually am, Benny? How much I’ve seen?” She shifted a little but didn’t move away from his seductive nearness. “I’m not stupid. I’m having to run alongside the Winchesters for the sake of my neck. Even though nine times out of ten, I know that if I wasn’t still a little useful they’d pop me off if they could.”

“Well, that would be a right shame.” His grin was just as wistful because he knew what she meant. Then his eyes crinkled as he leaned close to tease her. “Since I think this meatsuit suits you real fine.”

His accent deepened, just a little, and Meg arched an eyebrow at him, not impressed by the attempt. “For a monster, you’re not repelled by Nyx or me. Why? You up to something?”

He shrugged. “I’m used to being on the outside of the normals myself. This is a favour to help Dean but that little girl of yours? There is something unique in her. Can’t figure it out though.”

“Yeah?” Meg looked over his shoulder when she heard the door creak open. “Me either.”

Her eye caught Castiel’s as he appeared from the house. He glanced at them and then looked back out with a practiced carelessness. Meg could feel the heat in his quick glance and saw the confusing set of emotions fleetingly cross his expression. It just wasn’t clear if it was disappointment or jealousy on his face and when Meg looked around Benny was smirking. The idea that the vampire was trying to goad the angel for kicks improved her mood just a little. It was already looking to be a boring day for her if she didn’t find something to occupy her time.

 

Determined to keep Dean from doing too much physically, Sam was stacking the wood against the cabin when he felt it. A cold pins and needles sensation that travelled up his legs to his head and then back down to his fingertips, followed by a hot flush that had him panting instantly.

He dropped the stack he was carrying and staggered a little, shaking his head back and forth. It wasn’t just nausea and it was something so much more than a dizzy spell. Walking from the rear of the cabin, suddenly everyone who had been so close before now seemed far. He could hear Nyx’s voice the way he would hear something through a tunnel: echoing and distant.

Thinking that maybe he had just turned too fast, Sam stopped and stared at his brother to balance himself. Dean was narrowly avoiding Nyx as she stayed close to his feet, asking him questions and pestering him the way Meg had told her to before. Sam saw a flicker of light to the top of his peripheral vision and he looked up at it, just before crumbling down to his knees.

Dean felt the pressure in his head and the numbness on his hands, and before he turned all the way around he knew something was wrong.

“Sam?” Dean saw his brother falling as if in slow motion, like a boneless ragdoll sagging to the earth. Sam fell without even trying to stop himself, his head striking the wood stack hard when he landed on what he had been carrying. “Sammy!”

Dodging Nyx, he ran for him and at the same time Castiel made it to his brother. The angel had hold of the tall man as best as he could but, startled by the dead weight in his arms, he could only lay him on the ground. Dean shoved Castiel a little over and dropped to his knees beside Sam.

“Sam! Look at me, Sam! Sam!”

“He hit himself hard.” Castiel stared over Sam’s twitching body and gently touched the gash on his forehead. “He’s not epileptic but…”

“Shut up and just try to keep him from hurting himself,” Dean ordered and they rolled him over. He continued to murmur lowly to Sam, trying to penetrate the blurry haze that was going on in his brother’s mind while his body convulsed. Sam’s body heaved left and right and Dean knew his pain through a secondary sensation that had happened before. “It’s okay, Sam, it’s okay. We’ll help you.”

His eyes shot up to Castiel. “Can you do anything?”

“He’s collapsing but not just physically.” Castiel reached down and brushed his fingers over Sam’s head. He splayed his palm flat and the heat radiating from Sam nearly caused his hand to sweat. “I’m sorry, it’s his body fighting him but everything else is fighting for control. His mind is a mess and his body is slipping into shock. I can try though.”

Dean felt a tiny body slip by him and he snatched at Nyx before she could reach Sam. “No, Nyx, we have to let him ride it out,” he warned as he held onto her arm.

Spying the deep gash on Sam’s forehead, her eyes were wide in fear. “He hurt?” Nyx asked.

“He’ll be okay,” Dean said but there was a hesitation in his voice because the pallor to Sam’s skin was getting worse. Castiel reached out for his daughter but she shrugged his hands away.

“Sammy,” she said and she shoved at Sam’s arm. “Gotta wake up. Wake up!”

He was still heaving and shaking, dangerously close to striking her, and Dean tried to pull her back. “Nyx. It’s not safe.”

Still squirming, she ducked under his hands and avoided Castiel’s as well. “Gotta wake up, Sammy,” she whispered as she shook his arm again.

Coming up behind them, Meg watched something steal over Nyx’s face that seemed strange. Her little jaw firmed up and her blue eyes actually seemed to darken a little, until the whites were indiscernible from the blue. No one else seemed to notice it but it fascinated Meg .

“Get her back,” Dean ordered but Meg reached out and put her hand on Castiel’s shoulder to stop him. He looked up from where he was keeping Sam from striking out as he seized, startled by her touch, but he noticed she was watching Nyx. When he looked at Nyx again, he pulled his hand back from her at what he saw.

The girl put her small hands on Sam’s face and patted gently though he rolled under her hands. “Gotta wake up.”

Watching her, both Castiel and Meg heard a tiny piercing sound, like someone striking a metallic key. Though they were the only ones that heard it, they knew what it was when it echoed in their ears. It was a familiar sound that neither had heard in three years.

Sam choked on a breath when his eyes opened, a startled look on his face as he gulped for air. The rapid jerking motion of his body stopped abruptly and he gasped, fingers clenching into fists as he stared up at Nyx. Licking her lips nervously, she patted his face again before she touched the gash on his head. He winced as something sharp flooded through him, until the heat that had flushed through him at her touch was replaced by something cooler. Nyx stared back, as startled as he was, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.

“Nyx?” Sam asked.

With a delighted giggle, she watched him sit up before she reached out and touched his face. “Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m okay,” Sam whispered, absolutely entranced by the sparkle he could see in her eyes. He reached up and touched his bloody forehead but couldn’t feel the open sides of the gash. It was just a small wound now.

Castiel glanced at Meg but her eyes were for Nyx alone. As they all watched Nyx tackled Sam for a hug, giggling even though he hesitated to squeeze her back. Nyx waited until he finally wrapped his long arms around her small body for a quick hug before she let him go.

Still standing on the porch, Benny watched the little girl go racing by him as the adults stared stupidly after her.

~~

“Ok, what was that?” Dean demanded once they all sat in the living room a half hour later. He did another quick check of Sam’s eyes before Sam batted him away impatiently, grumbling about him hovering around him.

It had taken Castiel and Dean to get Sam up, and then Sam had fought a little with his brother to stop acting like some overbearing nanny over him.  Benny’s departure had been delayed since there was no way that Dean was leaving his brother yet when he had been hurt. The way Dean insisted on checking his vitals and quizzing his eyesight had made the younger Winchester more than a little irritated. Considering how Dean had reacted to Sam trying to take care of him for a change, they were likelier to go for each other’s throats than before.

“I fell, that’s all.” Sam sighed. “And I don’t know what happened. I feel fine.”

Standing against the door, Meg kept her arms folded over her chest and her eyes closed as she listened to the child nearby. In the other room, Nyx was devouring the  mac n’cheese Dean had found and Meg could hear her scribbling away in her colouring book. Despite the way everyone had been gently trying to ask her questions, Nyx had just insisted she was hungry and wanted to colour for a while. Eventually, Meg had forced them all to leave her alone so she could eat in peace and the discussion had come out to the main room.

“You’re better?” Castiel asked Sam from where he leaned against a table.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m actually okay. I don’t feel as tired as before. Maybe it was my brain’s way of saying I need to actually sleep.”

“Wait, you haven’t been sleeping?” Dean stared at him. “You never told me that.” 

“Have you been sleeping?” Sam countered. When Dean wiped at his mouth and grunted something non-committal, he nodded. “That’s what I thought.” 

The brothers looked at each other awkwardly and eventually Sam rolled his eyes, picking up the wet washcloth and dabbing at his still bloody forehead. Just as annoyed, Dean shifted on the couch and he watched Nyx and her stuffed unicorn in the kitchen. She was trying to feed it with her fork and making more of a mess as she tried. He snorted softly at the ridiculous sight.

Castiel followed his look and shifted uncomfortably when he saw the way Dean was gazing at his daughter. Hoping to see if Meg could break Dean’s stare, he looked at her next. The demon was staring at Nyx as well but with none of Dean’s intensity.

“So there’s the other thing.” Dean turned accusing green eyes on the angel and demon. “What was that? With Nyx?”

“Got me,” Meg said, one eyebrow cocked high. “She’s never done that before.”

“I mean, you guys couldn’t tell she was about to do that?”

“Nope.” She leaned back and rolled her head to the side to look at the wards and marks on the walls. “She never needed to do anything like that, I guess.” Her eyes dragged back to Sam slowly. “Guess she must really like you, Sam.”

“I thought she never actually showed any powers or anything. That’s what Linda told us, anyway,” he said. Sitting by the window, Benny sighed and finally stopped watching Nyx. 

“Clearly she has something.” He uncrossed his legs and stretched. “Because we all felt it there and Sam is lookin’ a-right bit fine now.”

“Cas?” Dean looked at the angel next. “Care to shed a little input on this? You’ve been quiet.”

“Only because I don’t know what to think.” He shifted a little and looked at Meg. “Meg is the only one who has been with her for three years and if she says that she has never shown any signs of being more than a human, then we have to trust that.”

The room was silent as Meg glanced up to see Castiel staring at her. She looked almost confused, a strange half-smile turning the corner of her lips, and he would have said more but Dean cleared his throat.

“Great. So the special abomination finally woke up and no one knew it could happen.” Dean’s snarky voice made both Castiel and Meg look at him sharply.

“You’re welcome, by the way. Sam would have bit through his tongue likely smacked you all around unless she helped,” Meg said, her tone as sharp as a knife edge but there was a hint of pride there was well.

"I’m not angry with her, okay?” Dean’s voice turned surprisingly meek. "I’m just a bit freaked out."

Sam sighed, knowing the real reason why he was so upset. “I’m okay, Dean, really. It was just a fall. And I feel—” Aware that everyone was staring at him, he stammered a little in embarrassment. “Well, I feel good. Better than usual even.”

Castiel tilted his head as he tried to see if Sam had change underneath his own skin. But there was only the glowing white line, invisible to the human eye, that ran on his one arm, and the faintest sign that something had happened to his soul. Sam looked almost the same as before, but there was a crackle of energy about him that had been missing. What it meant he wasn’t sure.

Reluctantly, Castiel turned his attention to Meg. She stared back for a moment before she walked off to the kitchen, muttering about humans being weak and stupid. 

“Well, this is all matter of domestic, and I’m sure it would be a thrill if I could stay. But I think Dean and I have a prior engagement,” Benny said suddenly and the hunter blinked in confusion.

“We’ve got a what now?” At Benny’s annoyed but pointed look, he went a little red and nodded. “Oh, right yeah. That thing. Won’t take us long either.” 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. He sat forward a bit, trying to see if they were both hiding something from him.

“Better you don’t know, guys. This is one of those ‘fewer people know, the safer it is,’ situations. I’ll be back.” Dean noticed the way Sam got up to argue and then had to sit back down hard from how dizzy that made him. “You get some ice on your head and sleep. I don’t care if the kid fixed you up, you still look like crap. I won’t be gone that long.”

Fixing his hat back on his head, Benny winked at Sam and Castiel. “Been a slice, boys. I’ll catch up with you later, I’m sure.” 

“Take care, Benny,” Sam said, still annoyed about being left behind.

Following Dean to the door, Benny paused by Castiel and leaned in close. “Make sure to say goodbye to the little demon for me, would ya? I got fond of her real quick.”

The angel glared at him, and Benny held the look with a satisfied grin still on his face even as he slammed the door behind himself.

~~

Flicking her tongue across her bloody lower lip, Eve watched the demon writhing beneath her. They’d trapped this one in the Midwest and he’d been easily seduced by a few pretty promises of sex and power. Now, she knew, he was regretting his decision to let her in. Not that she cared what he wanted. This was about her needs and her desires… none of which were remotely human. She was trying something new because if she didn’t experiment, then it was likely all those grand plans would fall apart.

She felt Adam’s heated gaze on her and that helped fuel her drive to finish this. To see if it worked. Like her other half, she could move fast when she chose to, and she had felt his  _ need  _ to be with her. Together they were stronger and apart they were weak, but she found it irritating to be so close to him for too long. The clash between them was powerful. It was why she put him in charge and let him run rampant as she coddled her offspring.  

Adam also had this irritating habit of killing those she could find useful and she wasn’t sure how to stop that.

She ground herself downwards as she felt the change begin. The demon’s hips bucked beneath her and he started to scream. She grinned, watching as the poison in his body began to work its special venom, sped up by the fact that he had willingly given in to her. The trick was that while Adam needed her, for now what she needed was not solely him. The male demons could give her something new if only this experiment actually worked. 

But it didn’t.

She could feel everything become lifeless about him, nothing more than a corrupted soul and a torn apart human essence, and it meant that nothing was going to work.

It was making her think that she needed something stronger and less tainted.

The growl of the demon changing made her head loll back and she opened her mouth to screech. Fangs extending out, she lowered her head and buried her teeth in his neck as the hands that had been caressing his body created more black vines of poison to streak over his skin and force him to become the very thing he hated.

She felt no real satisfaction from it.

Frustrated, Eve shoved her hand into the demon’s throat and burned him from the human husk.

 

Watching from the rear of the barn, where ten other bodies were strewn out and slowly changing, Adam wondered at his other half’s decision to sully her body with a demon’s seed. The demons, to him, were disgusting until they were changed. Parasitic freaks of nature.

Judging by the way her bloody mouth turned down, it didn’t work anyway. 

Eve pouted as she climbed off the dead demon. He’d not turned fully but had collapsed, dead beneath her.  “That should have worked,” she grumbled. Her mouth was still dotted with blood but her eyes no longer were white in ecstasy but a deceitfully innocent chocolate brown.

Coming up behind her, Adam ran his sharp teeth over her neck and he felt her push back into him. The meatsuit he wore now had patchy skin with bright red spots where their splintered power was struggling to break through. He was hideous to a human eye but he knew she saw something beautiful. For her, it hadn’t mattered; not when they had found each other here. The attraction was inherent, the halves of a whole, and like any animal with its mate, he sensed her need. She was angry and disappointed and all he wanted to do was please her and have her happy, because it keep his own hungers and frustrations away.

“That is why you have me, even if you haven’t told me everything.” He teased her earlobe with his tongue and felt her shudder. “You have me. Why bother looking for that demon female?”

She shoved him away and ignored his cursing. “You are no good to me if we don’t find a solution to our weakness. Maybe this demon has some secret within her that could prove useful; if we can taste her blood and whatever it is she is hiding.”

“You find a demon fascinating? You’d do better focussing on an angel or a hunter,” Adam snarled. Eve turned eyes quickly going black towards him.

“All of this will be for nothing if we cannot keep to plan.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “That is my will. Obey it.”

Rolling his eyes, the monster picked at his scabbing skin with fingernails that were starting to fall out. “I will need to find a demon shortly to replace this one. The meatsuit is decaying.”

She nodded and waved her hand over a scab to heal it for him. Eve’s suffering was the same but her power kept rebuilding the rips and gashes that marred her younger body. Brushing her hair out of her face, she walked by him and focussed on the demons their venom was turning.

“We need to have our children born . All we need is the right push to keep them. Right now, it doesn’t matter how many of them we have. If the demons keep fighting the venom, the souls of my children, then the rebirth means nothing.”

“How many do we have?” he asked.

“Forty.” She winced in sympathy as she watched another monster lose its battle to win control. Its body twisted as black smoke began to pour out of its nose and ears. When the demon died, the monster died with it, so tightly bound around the soul as it was. “Not enough.”

“Then we should make more.” His hand went over the flat of her belly. “Don’t you think? We can start using the humans as well. Maybe even try an angel or two. Our new friend did give us all matter of nice toys to use on them.”

Even though he felt her anger, she didn’t remove his hand when it travelled down her body in a slow caress. “We need to find what that creature said was in existence. See how it was done and why God would led such power to such a demon. There are clues to Creation there and we need that or this world isn’t meant for us any longer.”

Adam turned her in his arms and lowered himself to his knees before her. With his eyes on hers, he sank his teeth into the flesh below her breast, tasting black blood and smelling her odour of earth and algae. “We won’t die,” he pledged, blood-stained lips rubbing against her belly. “We will have your revenge. The skinwalkers have found the scent. I will bring them to you and then we can be one again.”

Eve’s fingers curled around his ears and then down his neck, holding him still as she bent towards him. Their eyes locked, held, and Adam actually felt her so deeply within himself that he nearly moaned at the contact. Eve murmured back to him, still stroking his shoulders, and when his head tilted back she lowered her head to kiss him deeply and taste herself on his tongue. The clutch of his hands became possessive and fierce, drawing her down as what they wanted from each other began to consume them. 

The monsters who guarded the barn all wisely turned away as the pair collapsed to the ground in a rutting frenzy that made the entire building tremble .

~~

The cabin was quiet without Dean and Benny, the morning hours slowly ticking into the afternoon. Sam had taken Dean’s orders to heart and was sound asleep and snoring in his cot, while Nyx and Meg stayed in the open living room. With Castiel a constant presence around the cabin, Meg had figured they were safe for just a little longer and knew that he wouldn’t come to any real decision unless the Winchesters were part of it. There was nothing else to do but focus on her daughter. 

Having shoved the coffee table out of the way, Meg sat cross-legged across from Nyx. With Nyx’s eyes shut, she rummaged in her duffel bag and then drew her hand back out, clenched in a fist. 

“What’s in this one, monster?” she asked, nodding at the hand she held out. Nyx frowned at it and shook her own head. “Just the first thing that comes to you.”

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked as he walked into the small living room. Clearly not expecting to see Meg on the floor, he looked at them in confusion before he sat down on the sofa behind Nyx. 

“Testing. Come on, Nyx.” She watched the small determined chin thrust out as Nyx focussed on her hand.

“Four penny and dollar.”

The angel sighed and rolled his eyes. “Meg, that’s not a test. That’s not even…”

Giving him a superior look, Meg opened her palm and revealed four copper pennies and a crumpled dollar bill. Castiel blinked at the sight and looked at Nyx. She squealed in delight when she realized she was right and just as quickly turned back to her drawing, which was a mess of yellow and orange scribbles.

“I did four tests on this. She knew each time what I hid and even guessed a few times before I picked something up.” Meg tossed the money back into her bag and steepled her fingers under her chin.

“That doesn’t mean…” Castiel began and Meg waved her hand at him to shut up.

“Nyx, invenias ludibrio.” 

Nyx looked around before she held up her stuffed unicorn at Meg. “Clarence?”

Meg nodded. “Good girl,” she muttered and looked up at Castiel with her eyebrow arched as if to say ‘your witness’. He swallowed loudly and his blue eyes darted between the two of them. Meg saw the question before he could open his mouth to ask it. “I never taught her that, Castiel. Latin isn’t really a language I even use outside of spells and I don’t think I ever said a word to her in it. So how did she know that all of a sudden? Go on, you try something in angel speak.”

“Enochian isn’t a simple language. It is not even one really meant for humans or demons,” he said stuffily and she sighed. 

“Sometime today, Castiel. Because if she gets bored then we won’t get a single answer out of her,” the demon threatened.

Castiel glanced around for inspiration before he decided to try something very basic. “Nyx? Azien mabza collal?”

They watched her draw in silence for a moment, then turned her head to roll her eyes up at him.

“Aai.” The word rolled off her tongue, a bit garbled because of her more childish voice, but he knew what she meant. She pointed at him, scoffed as if he was stupid, and then looked back down.

Meg glanced up at him. “What did you ask her?”

“Who had coat sleeves. She said me.” He shook his head. “What is going on?”

She frowned. “When I found you and her earlier, that wasn’t the first time you touched her with Grace, was it?”

Looking sheepish, he shook his head. “But it was the first time she reached back so that I felt the tug we had before she was born. The one we both felt.”

“I thought I felt it days ago but I didn’t think….” Meg stopped herself and looked down at Nyx. “So she’s waking up in a way.”

Exhaling sharply, Castiel reached out and brushed his fingers over the top of Nyx’s head. “Enochian is a difficult tongue, to speak and understand. Even I’m a little rusty.” When she didn’t pull away he tentatively touched her with his Grace next but she was closed off again though he thought he felt that tiny tug there again. “So how does she know it?”

“Got me.” Meg brushed her hands off on her jeans as she stood up and stretched. “Guess all she needed was you to wake her up, huh?”

He would have smiled if he didn’t hear a frustrated note in her tone. “You’re upset with me.”

“I just think this would be easier if she was human, Castiel. Fully human and with nothing special about her. People would leave her alone then.”

“I’m special,” Nyx said suddenly, grabbing her crayons and paper and tucking her unicorn under her arm. She glared at them as best as she could and then stomped away. Castiel and Meg watched her storm off a few spaces over, childishly turning her back on them as she crouched behind the television.

Meg shook her head at the sudden tantrum and grabbed her jacket. “I need to go out front for a bit. This staying in Winchester-ville is killing me again.”

“It is safer for you here,” Castiel answered as he stood up beside her. 

“Won’t be safe for everyone else if I don’t get some fresh air. I’ll be back.” She breezed by him but he saw the way her mouth was tight and her fingers clenched into fists. Troubled by the sight, he debated on following her until he noticed Nyx drawing furiously in fast little scribbles.

“Nyx? What are you doing?” he asked as he knelt beside her, grimacing at the awkward way he had to wedge himself between the TV and the wall. 

“Mad at me.”

“No, we aren’t. We’re worried.” 

He noticed her worrying her lip with her teeth. “I was bad?

“You were very good. Just be careful.” He sighed and tilted his head at her. 

“Want mommy.” She sighed and drew a thick black cloud beside the messy yellow circles. “She’s mad.”

“Not at you,” he said, trying to pick his words carefully. Nyx glanced up at him. He smiled and reached out to touch her drawing of the black cloud, ignoring this time how she flinched a little in surprise when he tapped it. “It’ll be okay.”

Nyx sighed and kept drawing but Castiel noticed how her tiny shoulders unbent a little when she relaxed. 

~~

Only knowing that she needed to get free, even for just an hour or two, Meg stepped out onto the porch and leaned back on the closed door. Eyes shutting, she wondered why this was getting even more complicated than three years ago. But three years ago, she reminded herself, this was nothing but a distant nightmare to you. Reality was now somehow much stranger than those old dreams and fears.

As she walked down the porch steps, she felt a cold sensation run up her back like ice being slid over her spine. It was like it was in preparation for something worse. Or something she should be afraid of. Rubbing her arms, she squinted out at the trees and then froze as, slowly,  someone stepped out of her peripheral vision to stand beside her.

“Hello, demon. Daughter of Azazel at one time, weren’t you? Then a daughter of Lucifer. Then nothing.”

Frozen, she looked over at the man in black standing beside her. Not much taller than her, thin and bony to the point of skeletal, there was something in the way he just stood beside her that made her swallow down the sudden lump in her throat.

“What was your name again? Your true name?” Quickly dismissing it as unimportant, he scoffed and waved his hand. “Demons. You all get illusions of grandeur when you start changing your names. It is hopelessly irritating to keep record of.”

Meg stared at him and backed up a step, looking nervously at the house.

“Please, don’t bother. He can’t help you even if I was here to threaten you.” His head turned towards her and she heard the crick of bone. “And I’m not. I know you know who I am. I collected you at one time or another. It is time we had a chat.”

Staring at the almost black of his eyes, her stomach turned as he reached out and pushed his thumb directly between her eyes. In one scalding moment, she remembered everything about him and why she knew it. The bite of the hellhounds ripping her to pieces centuries before, the hot pressure of Crowley’s angel sword into her body, and the sharp twist of it sending her to a more final death. All of those memories showed her a thin man bending over corpse and taking her soul to Hell. Or to the Lethe.

“Death,” she whispered and tried to lean back so his hand was no longer on her forehead.

“Charmed, I’m sure. You are more puzzling than the Winchesters, Meg, which is nothing short of an accomplishment. And I have waited a long time to meet you again.” As Death spoke, Meg was distantly aware that they were moving, that their surroundings were changing, though her feet never once left the ground. “Unfortunately you were what we call a pawn. Amazingly, you are a board piece that  went beyond the normal function of a pawn. You rose, you grew. It is almost interesting to meet someone to get under the skin of so many.”

“What do you want with me?” she whispered, not finding his interest flattering at all.

“To be sure you know your real cause and to give you some idea why I haven’t returned to Reap you since the Lethe.” He took a seat on an overturned tree log and stared up at her, patting the empty space beside him. “It won’t take too long. Have a seat.” When she hesitated, his smile hardened and Meg saw the threat suddenly gleaming in his eyes. “Now.”

~~

Castiel felt it in the way his skin crawled over his vessel’s bones and his Grace actually coiled tight to him, his eyesight suddenly felt hazy. He knew this feeling. Death was close by and Castiel didn’t like how clearly he knew that. The ominous sensation grew as seconds ticked by, until he could no longer ignore it.

“Nyx?” he asked, reaching out and touching the top of her head. When she looked up at him, he pointed at the back room. “Stay with Sam.”

He was so absorbed in finding out why Death would be close by that he missed the rebellious set to her jaw as he apparated out of the cabin. When he reappeared, Meg wasn’t out front where he expected, and her car was still pulled up and locked. Frowning, he walked out halfway to the dirt road and looked around for any sign of her. He couldn’t get any sort of bead on her and there were no tracks, nothing to give him some sense of direction.

Clenching his hands into fists, he let his head fall back. “Damn it.”

“Tut tut. Such language for an angel. What would Daddy Dearest say?” 

At Crowley’s voice, Castiel spun on his heel and grabbed for the demon’s coat. But Crowley was faster than he was, spinning away to put a reasonable distance between them, even going so far as to stand on the other side of the car.

“Is that what Meg’s been teaching you? Though as I recall your vocabulary has improved by leaps and bounds over the past three years so maybe this is just you.”

With a twist of his hand, Castiel’s spare angel sword fell to his grip and he raised his hand to level it at Crowley’s face. “I warned you.”

“Oh, get your knickers untwisted. I’m not here for her.” Crowley eyed the cabin. “Is your kid in there? You really wouldn’t be that foolish though, would you?”

“She’s not here.”

The demon eyed him, trying to see if he lied, and then nodded. “I believe you. You wouldn’t be that dumb, I’m sure. Because I’m sure you’ve learned better by now than to fool with me.” He waved at the front door. “Must be why you’re all warded up, hmm?”

“Why are you here, Crowley?” Castiel demanded to keep him distracted from the cabin.

“I’m what you call a warning system. There was word of monsters moving out this way, and supposedly, just supposedly, someone else has been following you.”

"We don’t want your help or whatever it is you are offering," the angel snapped and he lifted a hand. Crowley held up his own palms as if surrendering.

"I think the whore,” he spat out the slur as if to rattle Castiel, “has another idea about what she wants me for."

Castiel’s hand dropped a little. “What?”

“I struck a deal with Meg,” the demon said smugly and he saw Castiel stiffen a little. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? That is delicious, Cassie.”

“Why would Meg deal with you?” the angel whispered.

“Maybe it is because she doesn’t trust you. Or maybe it is because she wants to keep Hell off her back. I’m not really up on the particulars. She does me a favour by keeping a certain possibility away from me, so I do one for her and keep Hell off her radar for a while.” Crowley looked at Castiel. “Really, darling, do try to keep up. You should know the routine by now. We’re demons. Deals that point towards betrayal are our raison d’être. ”

He waved his hand at the cabin. “Or has domesticity rotted your brain?” 

Castiel pointed his angel sword at him. “Stay away from them.”

“Or you’ll what? We’ve already established long ago that you won’t kill me, Castiel. Not that you don’t have the gonads or what have you, but out of necessity. I’m the only demon willing to deal to get what I want and sometimes what I want aligns with what you want.” He scratched at his beard. “I just lost twenty good demons from the Midwest. The one that managed to get a warning out said that someone was tearing apart the demons. A monster.”

Castiel looked out at the woods, an unusual panic suddenly rising.

“Now if you want a new deal then I can…”

Castiel didn’t even turn his way but his voice stayed strong and threatening. “Get out of here. If you even hang around I’ll know it and I will send you back to Hell myself.”

Crowley smirked, clearly aware that his work had been done. Meg just hadn’t defined who could know about their business transaction. “Pleasure doing business with you as ever. Say hi to the little demon and give her a kiss for me, if you will?”

He was still chuckling as he disappeared from sight and left a furious angel behind.

~~

Meg sat beside Death and kept her eyes on her feet. “So that’s why I felt her so many times. I’m still connected to the Lethe.”

“And why your daughter is such a threat. She’s a sort of… siphon, so to speak, and it was effective though I doubt God or Sheol realized, in the middle of their little spat, what it could mean. Once Sheol realized she could do nothing but submit to what is, well then, as you can imagine.” He looked up at the sky. “She was less than enthused.”

“Naturally.” Meg tried to ignore how her soul felt ready to leap away from being so close to Death. “Why me?”

“Well, if you can’t figure that part out by now, then I can’t help you.” He nodded. “But you’ve done well, Meg, which is no short praise from me. Your daughter grew up more human than expected, so she has the threads of humanity that she needs. All of it went well. Castiel learned humility in human weakness, and you… you remained your daughter’s protector which I admit was a bit of a wild card there. I wouldn’t expect a demon to show much loyalty to her cause but you had to surprise me.”

He made a face. “I’m glad I didn’t bet with Him on that.”

“Nyx is…”

“Very special. Keep her that way. Because if she is given to anyone else?” He waved a hand in the air and in response the leaves still remaining on the trees turned shrivelled and brown. “The world falls.”

“Angel and demon kid is that strong? Surprised no one did it before then,” Meg snapped caustically,

“No one could. You were unfortunate enough to be a playing piece between two entities far more powerful than you could know. And now you have to deal with the trials it brings.”

He looked left, then right. 

“Here comes your greatest one right now.”

Meg could only stare dumbly at where Death had sat, because in the next heartbeat he was gone and she was sitting on an uprooted tree by herself. Eyes widening in confusion, because she knew that she had not been here before, she pursed her lips and stood up. A quick glance let her know that she was nowhere close to the cabin.

“Huh. Typical man. Doesn’t leave me any directions.” She turned around and smacked immediately into Castiel. She staggered and glared at him when he didn’t even back up. “How the hell did you find me so fast?”

“I looked.”

“And had to sneak up on me? Ok. New rule is you are wearing a bell, you got me?” Meg demanded with a smirk, thinking he would back off, but Castiel didn’t react. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her lose her momentum. “What is it? You’re looking like I just broke up with you and that’s…”

“I spoke with Crowley.”

She lost her smirk and her face went expressionless. “What?”

“You made a deal with Crowley!” he snapped. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Oh, here we go,” Meg said and she threw her hands up in the air. “You found that out because he told you, right?” His jaw tightened and he looked away. “Of course he did. He couldn’t possibly have a reason for telling you now of all times, right?”

“That’s not the point. After all he’s done, after what he did to you over the years, and you suddenly trust him?”

“I really look that stupid to you?” Meg snapped as she thumped him on the chest so hard that he looked down at her hand in surprise. “Look, our deal was that he stays off my back, I stay off his and find out what these monsters are getting up to. What Azazel is getting up to if he is magically back.”

He glared at her. “You should have told me.”

“Oh, there’s a conversation that would go well. What with your angelic nobility getting in the way and the fact that I’m a demon, we’re set to agree right?”

He raised a hand and took her arm to stop her from moving away again, stepping so close that her neck had to bend back to stare up at him. “You still don’t trust me after all we’ve done!”

“Oh come on, zap me for another three years and we’ll see if that helps the problem!” she shouted back.

A soft murmur behind Meg made Castiel look past her to see Nyx standing there. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at them, looking confused about why they were yelling. She seemed tiny in comparison to them and, feeling more than a little bit of guilt, he nudged Meg’s arm to draw her attention to the girl. 

But the demon was looking behind him and the sight of her eyes going to black made him forget about arguing with her.

“I didn’t expect to find you all out here.”

The oily smooth voice and the low threat of it made Castiel turn, instinctively knowing he had to protect Meg and Nyx. He put an arm around Meg’s waist and moved her behind him when he saw Adam in all his strangeness standing across the clearing.

“Get Nyx.” Instantly he felt the little girl wedge herself between them and he stepped back in unison with Meg to put more distance between them and the monster.

The yellowed teeth parted in a wolfish grin. “Hello, Castiel.”

“Cas?” Meg backed up again and he reached behind himself to take hold of her wrist. But though he searched for his Grace to fling them across the distance to safety, he couldn’t find the power or strength. “Who is he?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Adam. Part of Eve,” Castiel said and they backed up again. Meg’s startled gasp as she realized they were surrounded made him tighten his hold on her wrist. They both turned together, Nyx still pressed between them, to see that they were surrounded by several men and women. T the sight made Meg’s grip on Nyx tighten.

“They’re not demons.”

“Them? No. New and improved though, as the humans say.” Adam waved a hand at the loose-semi circle that were slowly pressing closer and closer. “They are very hungry too.”

“Get her out of here,” Castiel muttered to Meg. “I can hold them.”

“Oh, don’t leave,” Adam said before he raised a blood-spattered hand and moved so fast that Castiel couldn’t block him. The hand snagged the back of his coat and tossed him out of his way like a rag doll. When Meg turned to try to teleport out with Nyx in her arms, his fingers grabbed around her neck and hauled her back.

“So, you are the demon we heard about.” Drawing her closer until his nose was just an inch from hers, he squinted at her the way he would a bug. “You’re a strange one.  I didn’t expect the angel to be around you now. The Mother wasn’t clear about that.”

“Meg!” Castiel staggered to his feet and ran for them, blindly charging. Without turning, Adam’s hand latched around his neck and held him back like he would a swiping kitten.

“Please, Castiel.” His eyes stayed on Meg though. “I’m very interested in your demon.”

“Join the club,” she wheezed as he lifted her up too. “I seem to be the girl of the hour for you guys.”

Choking, Castiel let his spare sword slide down his wrist to his palm as he met Meg’s eyes, warning her what he was going to do. 

Adam looked down at the frightened little girl holding onto Meg’s suspended legs. With a ghoulish grin, he bent down a little. “Hello, little girl. You are cute. But do you know what my kind does to little girls?” He snapped his teeth at her and Nyx whimpered in fear. “We gobble them up.”

Castiel moved fast and slammed the angel sword into the monster’s shoulder, feeling the blade strike bone though Adam barely flinched. He dropped Meg immediately. Whirling around, he still held Castiel by the neck and ignored the way the demon scrambled back away from them. 

“You annoying little bird,” he growled as he drew the angel close. Castiel’s eyes widened as he saw a bloody fist pull back at the same time that Adam lifted him until his toes just brushed the ground.

He barely had time to brace himself before Adam slammed his fist into Castiel’s face, repeatedly punching him until the angel’s face was a mess of blood and bruising. Satisfied by the weak way that Castiel’s head fell forward, Adam tossed him away and into the waiting arms of two of his creatures. He growled low, agony making his voice pitch deep, as he pulled the sword out of his shoulder and then twisted to throw it in a perfect arc. The shining metal spun in the air before it sank into the angel’s belly, not deep enough to kill him but enough to send him falling back limply into the monsters holding him.

Startled by the agony tearing through his vulnerable stomach, Castiel struggled to breathe and Adam smiled as he watched the blood and light start to spill from the wound.

“You angels are just like birds. Just rip off the wings and you fall.”

“Any more bad metaphors you want to toss out?” Meg demanded from where she crouched, arms protectively wrapped around Nyx. Adam shrugged and turned back towards her.

“You see, we don’t really need him. But I think for controlling you it will be for the best if you see what I can do just to an angel.” He bent at the waist. “We want you and that little brat; the angel is just a bonus.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

Before he could reach for her, Meg sprang up to her feet. Her angel sword, the one Castiel had gifted her with, flashed to her fingers, and Adam’s eyes widened just before she stabbed up into his eye with the angel sword Castiel had given her. He howled in pain, leaning back just enough that the metal didn’t pierce him to the brain, and backhanded her to the ground.

Castiel grasped at his own stomach to try to close the wound, light leaking out of his bloody shirt, and he watched Meg as she fumbled on the ground. Nyx stood between them all, too terrified to run.

“Get the damn girl!” Adam shouted as he ripped the sword out of his ruined eye-socket and reached up to stem the blood flow with his palm. His head reared back and he hissed and growled, more animal than man now. But Meg wasn’t aware of that or of Castiel struggling just behind her. The only thing she focussed on was the little girl starting to cry.

“Come on, baby girl, hide. It’s a game. Go on. Hide really well.” Meg weakly smiled at Nyx. “Don’t let anyone find you unless you know them and you’ll be safe, got me?”

Nyx’s eyes welled with more frightened tears.

The monsters swarmed when Adam bellowed at them to move.

“Hide!” Meg shouted and the closest monster reaching for her daughter jumped for Nyx. Another slammed its fist into Meg’s jaw and sent her down to her stomach in the dirt.

In a bright flash of  light, Nyx was gone and Adam stared at the empty air where she had stood just seconds before. Dumbfounded, the other monsters looked at one another and then at him for instruction. His breathing came fast and harsh, anger making his face mottled between the peeling scabs, and he turned to look at Meg.

The demon remained on her knees, holding her bruised jaw with one hand. Through a mess of tangled hair, she looked up at Adam and then glanced at Castiel. The angel was fighting to keep his weakness hidden but she saw the way he clutched his stomach and fought to keep his eyes open. He caught her staring and shook his head, just enough to warn her, and Meg felt Adam’s shadow suddenly spill over her.

The monster looked ready to kill, his wounded eye rebuilding within his ruined face. Meg flinched as his hand outstretched towards her and she felt his fingertips just graze her temple. But suddenly, his head twisted to the side; he began twitching as if he was listening to something only he could hear.

When his attention fixed back on Meg again, she felt something cold course through her body at the look on his face.

“I bet you thought that was smart.” He crouched down across from her, eye still leaking pus and blood. “Hiding her from me. From us.”

Meg’s bloody mouth twisted into a grin even though it sent a throbbing pain through her jaw. “Don’t see you catchin’ her.”

“She won’t come back either, will she? Smart girl.” He leaned close and she felt his breath on her mouth. “All you just did was keep her alive another day. Because, once I’m done with you—.”

Like a threatening caress, his fingers dragged up her violet shirt before he tugged at the collar to draw her near. Meg’s eyes rolled to the side and she winced as he leaned close and breathed in her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Castiel being held with the bloodstained angel sword at his neck, struggling to fight back as blood and light leaked from his body. 

Adam’s grip tightened on her shirt and Meg felt his lips brush her skin. “—You’ll give us everything. Even her.”

~~

Dean frowned out his window as he saw the van pass by him on the dirt road. Confused, he glanced at the people in the front but they were all dressed in camouflage, clearly game hunters. Shrugging, he focussed back on the road as he took the turn for Rufus’. He had bigger concerns anyway than a few hunters who likely couldn’t catch a deer. With Benny safe in the spot they had decided on, they now had eyes on the ground that could maybe get the inside scoop on what the hell Eve was up to.

Hopefully it would do them some good, Dean thought to himself as he put the car in park and grabbed a bag from the trunk.

When he came into the cabin,  Sam was walking through, looking confused and annoyed.

“You lose your keys or something?” Dean asked as he set a bag of groceries down. Muttering under his breath, his brother pushed his hair out of his eyes as he bent over to look under the table. When he found nothing, Sam slapped his hand on his thigh and straightened up. 

“Meg and Nyx are gone. Cas isn’t anywhere either.”

“What?” Dean glanced around and saw Meg’s duffel bag still on the couch. “Like they took a family trip?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just a feeling I had.” He nodded outside. “Plus Meg’s car is out there and I doubt she’d let Cas just wing her out right now.”

Dean rubbed his cheek and shrugged as Sam went downstairs to check the basement. Closing his eyes, he thought it over and began to pray, “Cas? It’s Dean. You okay, buddy? Wanna give me a sign that all’s okay?”

But when there was no answer, not even the chirp of a text message, he knew something could be wrong. Joining Sam, he searched for anything that would give a hint to where they might be. How secluded the cabin was meant that they couldn’t get far on foot and Dean knew the demon wasn’t stupid enough to teleport when she was likely being hunted.

“Nyx’s unicorn is still here!” he called out the moment he spotted the plush toy on the table. “That’s weird, the kid never goes anywhere without it.” He picked it up and crushed the toy a little in his arms. “Must have been in a rush.”

“Must have been. Let’s see if there’s anything outside at least. Hope Meg left her keys.” Sam eyed the unicorn Dean was holding against his chest. “You can leave the toy, Dean, I’ll keep you safe.”

The glare he was shot made Sam grin cheekily back and follow his brother out, the unicorn left on the table.

Sam wasn’t sure why when they headed outside that he went to Meg’s car first. A mere feeling, maybe left over ESP or angelic stress, brushed against the back of his mind and made him feel like he needed to be there. It even made him ignore Dean’s request for help to check the woods out the back. The car still had that faint smell of smoke from the fire weeks ago, and he wrinkled his nose as he crouched down to see if Meg had left a spare key on the tire. It was when he stood up, empty-handed and irritated, that he noticed something moving inside the Cougar. 

It was such a slight movement he would have missed it if he hadn’t been searching for something.

“Dean?” He pointed. “Something’s in here.”

Coming up beside him, Dean squinted through the window. He cupped his hand to block the light’s glare and pressed his nose against the glass. “Is… Is that Nyx?”

Sam copied him and saw her at once. Nyx was squeezed between the back and front seats, wedged tight with her car seat at her back, and a spare blanket pulled over her head. Even her face buried in her arms, it was obvious that she was crying by the way she was shaking.

“Nyx?” Dean called out and he tried the door to find it locked from the inside. “Damn it. Nyx! Nyx, what happened?”

She refused to move and the rest of the doors were locked when they tested them.

“We can’t leave her in there,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, I got that.” Dean eyed the car and then made a face as he tested the glass with his hand. “Well, Meg will be pissed anyway.”

Steeling himself against the pain, he slammed his elbow into the window and watched as Nyx crawled away to the opposite side of the car. The glass crumpled after four blows and he brushed it away to get to the lock. Still favouring his now aching arm, he opened the door and Sam crouched down in front of him.

“Nyx?” They could hear her murmuring away in between big, gulping sobs. “Nyx, come on.”

“It’s us,” Dean offered gently as he leaned in over Sam. But the way she was shaking when she looked up at them with wide-eyed fear made him swallow. He smiled and tried to ignore her watery blue eyes. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Scared.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, holding out his hand. “It’s us. You know how you know that? We would never hurt you.”

“Monsters.” She refused to come out and the awkward placement of the car seat made it near to impossible to get over to her. Dean patted Sam’s back and ran back to the cabin.

“Nyx, what happened? Where’s your mom?” Sam asked as he slowly crept his hand towards her leg. Nyx flinched backwards and he put his hand on the seat. “Nyx?”

She sniffled. “Told me to hide from monsters.”

Sam lowered his voice more to keep from spooking her. “What kind of monsters?”

“Gonna hurt me,” she whispered and she crouched back against the door. Sam felt Dean suddenly pat his back, passing him over the plush toy.

“Nyx, you know us. You left Clarence here, remember?” Sam held it out to her and she snatched the toy out of his grip, hugging it close before retreating to her corner. “It’ll be okay. We’re the good guys.”

She looked at him and then up at Dean with open hostility. “It’s all right,” the older Winchester muttered, kneeling down beside Sam. “You can stay there if you want. We’ll wait.”

“Nyx, what happened? Your mom wouldn’t leave you.”

“Monsters!” she snapped and Sam winced, touching his jaw as he tried to think of a way to wiggle her out without scaring her. But he didn’t like the thought of forcing her out because it would only scare her more.

“Nyx, remember when that big dog attacked you?” he asked and her eyes went directly to him. “I promised you I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. Giants don’t let little girls get hurt.”

He had the odd feeling that she was seeing under his skin as those blue eyes stayed on him, something that reminded him of how Castiel would stare at them sometimes.

“I promise,” he repeated and Nyx suddenly launched across the seat and into his arms, pressing her face into his neck. Startled, Sam sat back down on the dirt and Dean slid down as well to watch as Nyx wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck and hugged him. Stroking the back of her head, Sam held her and let her cry against him.

Dean listened to the mumbling way she told Sam she was scared, her words garbled by tears and sobs.

“What happened to your dad, Nyx?” he asked and he saw her confusion for a moment before she shook her head and poked Sam’s belly hard. He realized instantly what she was telling him. “He was hurt?”

She made a sound and nodded.

“Monsters.” Dean stood up and looked around. “That means Adam and Eve. Great.”

“We both saw how Cas was around him. Whatever that thing was, it wanted his blood.” Sam patted Nyx’s back as her crying slowed down and held her tighter. “We have to find them.”

~~

Castiel woke to pain. Everything ached from his chest down and he groaned as he stretched out. His stomach burned and when he shifted it felt like the skin was stretching and ripping. Vague flashbacks of monsters and flashing silver reminded him of being stabbed by his own sword and he opened his eyes.

“Don’t move too fast,” a woman’s voice warned him and he jerked up immediately.

“Meg?” He tried to roll to the left and his head slammed into the wall as something tightened around his arms and snapped him back. He was tied up and even snapping his fingers didn’t release him. Castiel wriggled his arms as he squinted to see through the darkness of the room. “Where are you?”

“Right here.”

He heard the jangle of metal on concrete beside him. “Where are we?” he asked the shadows.

“Not sure. They beat me down so I wasn’t really able to see. After that, it was just easier to play dead for a while.” He heard her sigh. “So this is where the monsters have been hiding out. Classy. Smells like a ball pit of little kids in diapers.”

Groaning, he moved to get up and found himself stuck, tethered in his place.

"What’s wrong?" Her voice seemed closer and he swivelled as far as he could.

“They’ve bound me.”

“That’s possible with you?”

“With the right sort of metals and sigils, yes. They were prepared for me to some degree.” He grunted as he yanked hard on the cuffs. The binding wasn’t what worried him. The strong odours of earth and blood weren’t enough to mask what he could smell underneath it all, a smell that let him know that they were more than a little prepared for him. The entire room had the suspiciously fresh scent of Holy Oil and he didn’t even want to consider how they knew to use that.

“Are you hurt?” he asked when no amount of tugging could set him free. He felt a brush of fingers against his trapped hands and realized that the hollow room had thrown her voice around. Meg was beside him.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

He turned his head and squinted down as he tried to see her. “They knew where we were.”

“Not sure they did. I think they were pretty surprised to see us.” He heard a thump and the sound of material scraping on the wall as she lowered herself. “Been trying to get myself out but I’m just as bound up as you are.”

Straining to reach her, he forced his hands down deep in the cuffs until the metal abraded his wrists and ripped at the skin so that blood dripped. His thigh just brushed hers as he sank to his knees beside her as far as he could go. Blindly reaching out, he brushed his bloody fingers over what felt like her cheek.

“Did you see anything that could let us know where we are?”

“We didn’t travel that far out. Ride was bumpy, smells like pine.”

Castiel inhaled but all he could smell was blood and sulphur now. “We need to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m open to suggestions.” Another jingle and he felt her shift against him. “But I’m guaranteeing you it won’t be easy.”

He looked around but even with his ability it was near impossible to see. “No one else has been around?”

“Dumped us here and left us.” Her legs shifted across and he felt her fingers move against his coat. “You’re not packing another sword, are you?”

“No. They don’t just appear, you know.” 

“Damn.” Her body leaned into his.

“Nyx, was she…”

“Kid’s smart.” He heard her cough and groan. “Plus she’s a whiz at hide and seek.”

“She was scared.” He exhaled, pulled hard. “I’m sorry. I should have made sure she would stay at the cabin”

Meg didn’t speak for a moment before she sighed. “I don’t think we could have guessed monsters would be out for us so soon.”

His fingers brushed hers. “We can try something. We can think of something.”

The lights snapped on, letting him see her, and Castiel stared, horrified, at the sight of Meg’s bruised face. The demon’s one eye was so swollen and bloody that all he could see was red and the purple outlining it. Meg blinked at the harsh overheads, glanced at him, and then looked away as if embarrassed by the damage.

“Well, this is just cozy.” 

Meg abruptly shrank back against Castiel’s arm as if to hide behind him.

It was Michael, Castiel thought at first, until he saw his eyes. They were a sickly yellow that seemed to swirl in their sockets. Of all the stories, he knew of only one Yellow-Eyes. He had never faced Azazel before, they had always been ordered to leave him alone, but he had heard the stories. Every angel knew the stories; for a fallen, he was one you did not trifle with no matter how he acted so flippant. There was pure corruption in just the look of him; it twisted the youthful face and Castiel had the sudden urge to try to break free and run.

But Azazel was only staring at the demon beside Castiel. “Meg. It’s been a lifetime.”

“Why are you in Adam Milligan’s body?” Castiel demanded, trying to deflect as he felt a physical sensation of fear coming from Meg now, one he had never felt so strongly. But Azazel simply stepped forward, a lanky human that seemed out of place in the dirty surroundings.

“Still hanging around an angel, Meg? I heard the rumours, even where I was. Never thought it would be true. I thought when I woke you back up you would have learned your lesson.” Ignoring the threatening way Castiel was staring at him, he crouched in front of where Meg was tethered and leaned forward. “You remember me? All those years, all those lives.”

His teeth gleamed when he chuckled. “And we’re back together again. Father and daughter.”

Meg stared into his eyes. Watching them, Castiel realized that whatever was being said without words was something he was not privy to. Azazel reached out to stroke his thin fingers down her neck, lingering on her collarbone. He sighed heavily, like a father might with a child who annoyed him, and his fingers wrapped around her throat the way Adam had done before.

“You disappoint me.”

Meg said nothing and Castiel felt the way her body arched back as if to shrink away from Azazel. The yellow-eyed demon smirked and then looked at Castiel, reading the question on his face.

“I’m a gift, angel. From the Lethe. A sort of… unexpected side-effect for everything going to and from it three years ago.”

Meg flinched and her head turned away from him though he pushed hard on her throat. Finger shaped bruises started to appear on her skin and he never broke his gaze from Castiel, as if he was seeing if Meg being in pain affected the angel.

“What are you doing here?” Flanked by two strange creatures that maybe once had been human until they were twisted beyond compare, all misshapen and scabbing skin, Adam stepped into the room and stared down at the demon.

“We struck a deal in return for my help in locating her,” Azazel said without moving. “I’m taking my payment now.”

Before his hand could yank Meg forward, something threw Azazel to the side and into the wall. He crashed into the concrete and it broke under the impact, leaving him to curse as he moved to his feet. 

“Deals were made to be broken, freak.” Adam stood between him and his prey, teeth bared. “Consider it payback for what your kind did to the Mother. Both angels and demons. Or did you think I wouldn’t recognize what you could be?”

Azazel’s head bent at an awkward angle and he did a visible twitch, eyes diverting back to a pale water colour. His voice became strangely toneless. “The demon was to be mine, the child yours.”

“The child escaped and we’re taking the demon as compensation.” Adam snapped his fingers and the monsters at his back stepped forward. “Leave.”

“You’ll regret this. It is because of me you even can exist in this world without the angels interfering,” Azazel threatened but Castiel heard a drop in his voice, to a more noble voice that was familiar. Michael’s voice. Though it was the same voice out of the mouth of the Winchester’s brother, there was such a difference in just the slightest tic and rise to it.

Castiel had thought his brother was corrupted but he hadn’t realized how far.

“Would you like the Mother to try her latest experiment on you?” Adam asked, stepping forward with his guards. “Even if the experiment fails, it would be hilarious to see you struggle.”

The two creatures stared at each other and from the floor Castiel dug his wrists deeper into the cuffs to try to force himself free. But he could feel both his injury and another’s power actually preventing him from doing anything but stay. It felt like the diner years ago, when Eve had stymied his power and made him ‘limp’ as Dean had called it.

“Does she know?” Azazel tried and he glared at Adam. “What you’re doing?”

“We operate as one mind, freak. Run. We’ll let you have her when we’re done.”

The tension between them escalated until Azazel backed off, a casual grin on his face. “Leave something for me then.”

“She won’t be dead. You can have bits of the angel too. An added bonus.” Adam stared as Azazel passed one of the larger monsters and it snapped its fangs at him. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” His orange eyes flickered and he looked at Meg. 

When Azazel was gone, the demon lifted her chin bravely. “That’s it?” she demanded

“Not really. Where did your child go?”

Castiel stiffened and stood up, Meg joining him though she had a hard time moving as fast. “We’ll never tell you.”

“I’ve thought about that. Together, no, you won’t. Some things are stronger together, but cut one leg off and the rest of you fall.” He snorted. “That was a terrible metaphor.”

Noticing how Meg seemed to be recovering from her shock, Castiel protectively tried to crook his body towards hers.

Adam noticed as well.

“So. The child. She ran from us but we saw her following you, Castiel. Almost as if she wanted to be with you. Now the Mother left some details out about this child's parentage and I can’t think of why. The child did feel so strong, as small as she was.” He took a single step closer, bringing with him an oppressive air like a weight of heat. “What was her name again? It was something… short.”

Meg chanced a look at Castiel and the second her eyes were off of Adam he leapt forward, fingers grabbing her arm. The sigil-laden cuffs that bound her and Castiel snapped instantly and she stumbled forward. Castiel moved forward to follow and one of the monsters at Adam’s back lit a match and tossed it down. The snarl and hiss of fire lighting up made the angel stop short before he hit the barrier.

“Ah ah ah.” Adam wrapped an arm around Meg's shoulders and she twisted under the grip. “Don’t fight me. It makes it worse when you fight me.”

“Let her go.”

“I’m sure the demon doesn’t need your help, Castiel.” Adam nuzzled her neck. “Tell me, demon. What is your name?”

“Meg.”

“Mm. Cute name. You smell of the angel, Meg. How strange. Do you taste like an angel as well or is that just a cover to hide what you are?” he asked as if it concerned him and she made a face, eyes locking on Castiel’s face. His own eyes darted around the sparse room, looking for escape or something to use as a weapon.

“You know, you’re going about this all wrong to get any information from me,” Meg muttered as Adam hummed in her ear. “I don’t go for monsters.”

His grin was awful as he turned her around and brushed her hair back, fisting his fingers into the dark tresses. “Who said it was for your benefit, parasite?”

His gaze went over her head and he smiled at Castiel, standing at the edge of the fire and still searching for a way out. “Castiel?”

The angel turned to look at him.

“Be sure to keep your eyes on this.” Adam kept his fingers tight in Meg’s hair and pulled so hard she yelped as she was dragged upward. Toeing to the edge of the flame, Castiel watched as the monster’s fangs came out. Nothing like a vampire’s row of teeth, they still shone in the firelight and the wicked curve to them made even him swallow nervously.

Adam chuckled as his head reared back

Meg’s scream came out sharp and high as Adam buried his teeth into her jugular. His mouth suctioned around the wound and Castiel heard the tearing of skin as the fangs sank deeper and deeper. Dark black vines appeared over Adam’s skin as he held Meg steady in his arms and venom began to pump into her body. Castiel came to the edge again and again as he tried to cross over, forgetting his safety as he listened to her scream. 

But when he stretched his arms out, immediately the flame snarled and crackled until it struck his hands and the fire licked across his skin. Recoiling backwards with a startled cry, he cradled his hands and looked at the bubbling flesh.Castiel tucked his arms close to his body and watched helplessly as the fire receded.

Meg still twitched in Adam’s grip and he murmured her name, seeing the way she stared blindly at the ceiling. Then, suddenly, Adam's eyes opened and Castiel saw Adam’s open disgust at the taste of Meg’s blood. Where an addicted human would find it sweet, it was clear that the monster didn’t find it even close to sweet. Adam snarled and pulled free from her, spitting out her blood as if he couldn’t get it out of his mouth fast enough. 

Meg fell to his feet when he dropped her down and he wiped his lips before looking at Castiel.

“Now, you angel.”

Behind him, Meg’s short weak chuckle caught everyone’s attention. “That’s it? Venom?” Meg weakly got to her knees. “Baby, I've been given worse.”

Frustrated, the monster turned and hauled her up. “You deserve death.”

“Come on, where’s the fun in that?”she taunted, eyebrows arched in obvious challenge. “I’ve seen scarier from a poodle that tried to bite me.”

Adam raised his hand to strike and then put it back down slowly. He smirked. “Bring the demon, leave the angel in his cage. I have to have a little chat with him later.”

~~

Meg was dragged by the arms between the monsters, letting them support her weight. She wrinkled her nose at the rotted smell coming from their bodies that reeked of death long coming. Behind her she could still hear the crackle of fire as the Holy Flame encircling Castiel still burned fresh. But her brain wasn’t on the struggle going on behind or even what was she was being led towards. There was something much worse about to happen inside of her.

_ How the hell had Azazel found her?  _ _ Why did her neck hurt so badly? _

Though she couldn’t feel any real effect from the bite, something in it kept the spot he’d bitten into sore and burning, so that even her power couldn’t heal it.

“This place smells like a bad zoo,” Meg muttered and one of the monsters cuffed her.

Walking in front of her, Adam pirouetted about.

“Would you be more comfortable if it was a torture table in Hell?” He grinned. “The demon I’m riding remembers a certain little spot. A certain little place where a teacher loved to put his pupils on the spot.” 

His face contorted and, horrified by the thin features he displayed, Meg barely managed to hide her shock. “Your favourite teacher, perhaps?” His voice changed to a strange, underbite-addled one that she had heard in every one of those meatsuits Alastair had worn.

Meg merely planted a cocky grin on her face. 

“Come on, baby. Shapeshifting? I’ve seen better.”

“Maybe.” His face distorted again, broadening and going younger than before. His voice went from a jaw-clenched tone to gravelly smooth and he ran a hand through his now dark hair as if admiring the change. “What if my face was prettier?”

Meg looked away from this new doppleganger of Castiel.

“Do you like this face?”

He chuckled and kept the face even when she looked away. His voice deepened when he came close and grasped her jaw between his fingers. “Now that’s a girl. You be good and it’ll be just like old times for you.”

His eyes went from blue to a glowing orange. “And I’ll make sure you stay awake through all of it.” When Meg didn't fight his hold, he looked at the guards. “Take her.”

~~~

Sam rubbed at his jaw, watching Nyx as Dean held her close to his side while he drove. A terrified child was something neither of them had dealt with much before and she kept shaking and clutching whoever was close enough to hold her. Neither of them could get it out of her where Castiel and Meg might have gone and they had tried everything.

“Well, we know they’d have to be kidnapped or something,” Sam said and thumbed through his phone. Calling their cellphones had only led them a few miles out from the cabin and finding them in a mixture of blood and dirt. Dean had found the tire tracks and following them had led to the main strip of concrete. That led to winding roads and all sorts of possible ways to go.

“How do you figure?” Dean asked as he slung an arm across Nyx’s shoulders. 

Sam pointedly looked down at Nyx. “Because they’d never leave her alone, either of them.”

“Yeah but who can kidnap an angel that easily?”

“If Cas was trying to protect her, he’d let them take him. If these monsters are smart, and judging by what we’ve seen they are, then it will be nothing for them to figure out how to trap an angel. Eve, remember? And whatever that Adam is.” Sam sighed and pocketed his phone. “Garth texted. Apparently something killed Em and Dave up near Bobby’s old place. He’s having his guys investigate but he said it was pretty brutal. His text was pretty short for him; he’s upset.”

“Damn.” Dean thumped his hand on the wheel. “We got a lot of problems now don’t we?”

He held up his fingers and counted off. “Our angel is missing, the demon we both know we need to keep an eye on is missing, we have no leads, can’t even get Garth on the line which means Kevin won’t talk to us either, and to top it off, we’ve got a scared kid with us.” He thumped the wheel again. “I wasn’t cut out to be a working parent, just fyi.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Sam glanced down at Nyx to see her watching the radio’s dial as Dean’s AC/DC tape reached its end. “You okay, Nyx?”

She nodded and he sighed before a thought hit him. “What about Benny?”

“Won’t do any good. I took him a long ways south and he was with me the whole time this went down I think. He’ll be getting comfy with some new nest down there by now and if I blow his cover now?” Dean shrugged and glanced out the window. “We don’t even have a way of tracking them.”

Sam looked down at Nyx again and began to think. “Yeah, we do. Not the best thing we’ve got though.”

Dean looked at him and nodded in understanding. “You thinkin' angels or demons?”

“I doubt the monsters would know enough Enochian wards to keep an angel out. I doubt they’d even expect it. So angels.”

“Let’s just hope we get the right one this time.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked up at the sky as Dean pulled off the highway towards a small town.

~~

As his hands healed over, Castiel continued to look around the room for anything he could use to pull himself free. But with the two monsters standing in the corner, anything he did would be noticed. They were watching him so closely that it was obvious that he wouldn't get free without them attacking. He noticed slight nuances to them that were strange. Their necks kept twisting to almost breaking point and then they would shudder and moan, claw at their faces and then give up just as fast. It was clear that they knew their skin wasn’t their own and they were trying to get free.

Pacing the interior of the circle, Castiel sighed and tried to think of another way out. No angel would come to his call, and with Adam’s power stalling his, he was stuck. And even if he managed to get free, then he still had to get to Meg. 

He wouldn’t leave her here.

“Alone at last,” Adam said from behind him. Castiel turned abruptly to face the voice and inside the circle with him was Adam. His scabby skin shone in the firelight and he smirked. “Hello, Castiel.”

The revulsion he had felt when they had first met crawled up his spine once again. But he kept his hands at his sides and tried not to look intimidated.

“Adam.”

“The Mother, Eve? She is very particular. She wanted to be here, and maybe that is why she didn’t tell me everything.” His lips curved in a smirk. “But she has her own brood to care for, like any mother. So she needs me. So nice to be needed, isn’t it?”

“What did she tell you?” Castiel demanded and Adam walked closer to him. He couldn’t move away as the monster stepped closer and closer, like a snake weaving towards its prey.

“Only that she wants answers. To take the first step in finding a solution to a problem.”

Adam didn’t know why Meg and he were important, Castiel thought for one hopeful second. He then realized how stupid that was. He had to be ready for the worst judging by how violent and unstable this incarnation of Eve’s power seemed to be. The angel flinched back when Adam reached out and touched his face. His touch had a warm but clammy feel to it and Castiel realized he was subtly threatening him.

“I never thought much of angels, not even when I was part of the Mother,” Adam admitted, stroking the back of Castiel’s head as he circled him. Castiel stared ahead of himself, not liking the thought of what Adam could do to him when he clearly knew his power was blocked. “You don’t create, sometimes you don’t even die. You are just… there.”

Adam stood in front of him. “Stagnant. That is what you are.”

Warily, he looked up at the monster and Adam’s eyes lazily lifted as well. “But you… you, Castiel.” His cool smile widened. “You’ve created life. You are something new.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Castiel whispered and Adam laughed.

“You try to hide it but I’m too old for that, angel.” He leaned in close. “Eve is the part of me, the violent and powerful defender, but she and I can both see the same things. Maybe she didn’t tell me but I can see it now what has changed about you. You’ve created. You were a father. Are a father.”

Horrified by that insight, Castiel looked at the monster.

“It shows in your eyes. In the way you would try so desperately to distract me. You have a child. Tell me about your child, Castiel, and I will let you go,” Adam promised, holding up a hand. “I swear.”

Nervously, Castiel glanced at the monsters still standing guard but Adam snapped his fingers, sending them away. Like an eager high schooler about to get juicy gossip, Adam moved closer to him. His eyes darted over Castiel's and tiny flickers of orange began to circle within dark depths, hypnotically focussed on him.

“Tell me.”

“I have a daughter,” Castiel admitted, not sure why he felt compelled to answer. “She’s… she’s mine.”

“You are so proud of that. Other angels of your rank would be horrified. Only an Arch would take such pride but I can’t tell if you are one.” Adam eyed him. He looked away and the monster grabbed his face, holding him still. Reaching down, he dug his fingers into the still healing wound on Castiel’s stomach and he ripped at the new tissue until blood leaked from it. Before he could jerk away, Adam popped the bloody fingers into his mouth. “Mm.”

He pulled back and started at him wide-eyed, as if Castiel’s blood on his tongue let him know some great secret.

“The demon and you... you were the father. The child that creature told us about; she’s yours as well. You were the angel he spoke of. You, the most righteous and rebellious of your damned kind, took a soul like that… and you found her and … loved her.” He frowned. “You are such an unusual creature, Castiel.”

The angel shuddered and recoiled as far as he could against the wall, but Adam stepped outside the flames again.

“That demon's scent is on you, just barely but it is there.” He grinned. “You see, Castiel, when a creature like you is with a demon, the smell, the taste, lingers to one like me.”

Adan rolled his head back on his shoulders. “You and a demon. Sinful. Your child is a born abomination.”

“What you’re doing is wrong. You’re becoming no more than Crowley was,” Castiel tried and the monster smiled. His skin seemed to grow sagging and loose, as if it were peeling, but Castiel held the look even though the sight disgusted him.

“Nice try, really. I know exactly what I am doing. I am making my children stronger, making this world theirs.” He extended his arms out to the side. “It will serve you well to remember that when they devour you, Grace and all, for their very first kill.”

~~

The large sigil painted onto the tree trunk was ready to ward off the wrong sort of angel, the circle of Holy Oil was already poured, but even with all that protection neither Winchester felt confident in what they were doing.

Nyx was huddled in the backseat of the Impala as Dean had told her too. Scared and tired, she wasn’t putting up much of a fight with them. Only cried that she wanted her mother and wanted to be safe. Dean hadn’t the heart to tell her that if they didn’t find Meg or Castiel soon, then whatever had taken them was likely worse than they expected.

Sam swayed a little on his feet as he flipped an angel sword into his hand and nodded. “I’m ready.”

“If we get thirty angels down here at once, you better be hitting that sigil, you got me?” Dean warned.

“Got it.” Positioning himself between the car and the circle, Sam moved into a more defensive stance.

Dean stared up at the sky. “Calling all flying monkeys. You guys know I don’t pray often but this isn’t for me. Your brother’s gone missing and I think whatever was causing hell in, well, Hell has him. You might want to help us get him back before he reveals some back door into Heaven. Unless you want another war. I’ll even owe you a favour, under conditions.”

There was silence following his half-assed prayer and Sam gave him a look.

Dean glared at the sky. “First angel down here gets a cookie.”

“Come on, Dean,” Sam started when there was a whoosh behind his older brother.

“Seriously? A cookie worked?” Dean turned around and blinked at the newly arrived angel. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The Metatron, a bit bruised and battered, glared at them as he fixed his cardigan over his portly body to get rid of the chill in the air. “I’m the answer to your prayers,” Marv said. He thought it over. “The first one, that is.”

“You?” Dean eyed the rebel angel. “No offence, Marv, but I was thinking more like a Gadreel, Raphael, or Castiel warrior-style of angel.”

“The other angels won’t answer your prayers. Anyone with half an ear out for the Angel Radio was told to return to Heaven immediately, to stop hunting something they’ve been scouring the earth for.” Marv took several steps towards him. “I heard the rumours, you know.”

“Rumours?” Dean reached into his pocket and fished his lighter out. But the angel took no more steps towards the ring of Holy Oil, as if he knew it was there. 

“Rumours. That the demon Castiel was with a few years ago returned, all of a sudden alive and well. That his child was still alive too. Every angel in existence felt that moment when _she_ came back into that wavelength.” Marv looked around. “I haven’t felt anything like that since Father left us.”

“So why are you here? You and Cas were on outs, weren’t you?”

“I don’t want war. I know you all like to think of me as some great evil but I work out of necessity. I do what I believe is what the Father wants. You want help finding Castiel, I’m the only angel available. The rest are hiding in Heaven for some reason.”

Dean looked over at Sam and his brother shrugged.

“Fine. Get your angel radar out and find us Castiel,”

“First things first. I do this, what do I get from you?”

“Well, we won’t try to kill you. We might think about getting the angels away from you too.”

Marv’s face tightened. “I want something more.”

“Such as?” Sam asked.

“My niece, as she’d be called by you humans. I want to speak to her.”

“She’s three. She doesn’t do much talking,” Dean said dryly and Sam gave a rude snort. “Okay, she does, but it’s nothing too insightful.”

There was something wistful about the Metatron’s smile. “If only it was that simple. I just want five minutes to talk to her. Then I won’t have a problem finding Castiel and I can throw myself head on into this mess with the same vaguely martyr-like desperation my brother would show.”

The phrase was so puzzling that Sam shot his brother a wary look but Dean nodded. “Five minutes. But you go to do any fluttering off, I’ll summon you back and kick your little ass, got it?”

Marv looked almost insulted. “I don’t kill children. I am not my brothers and sisters.”

~

They drove to the closest restaurant, a puzzled Nyx sitting between them as Marv sat in the backseat of the Impala. His presence made everything so much more awkward but the angel was content to just watch the scenery go by. He seemed happy with being a passenger and making the odd comment here or there about the town they were coming into.

Dean just wondered why he didn’t put up much of a fight and he kept an eye on him even when they all went into the pleasantly friendly diner.

Marv didn’t say much as he sat across from Nyx at a table and stared at the little girl. Dean and Sam took seats close by to watch, giving them just enough privacy but not enough freedom for Metatron to try one of his tricks. For once, Nyx wasn’t drawing or even chattering. She just stared at the Metatron with an expression oddly familiar to how Castiel would stare at a suspect.

Even when the waitress brought the angel a crepe and cooed over Nyx as she handed her a stack of pancakes, nothing seemed to break the tension between the three year old girl and the aged angel.

Dean watched, puzzled, as their eyes stayed locked.

“This is really creepy,” Sam muttered. “I’ve never seen Nyx do that.”

“It is Metatron. He can do creepy well,” Dean agreed as he sipped his coffee.

Marv gave no sign that he was even paying attention to them. His eyes were solely for the little girl who stared at him.

“What is your name? Nyx?” Marv asked her curiously and the child shrugged. “I’m a friend of your father’s.”

Nyx seemed puzzled by that and then realized who he was talking about. “You hurt him.”

“I hurt many angels. Something I am still paying for every day of my life.”

She eyed him as she scooted to her knees on her chair and leaned across the table. Her tiny features pulled into a stern expression. “You were bad.”

“I was.” Marv cut up his crepe and offered her a bit. Still eyeing him, she popped the warm piece into her mouth and made a face. “I’m trying to be good. I did what any brother would do when his family was fighting. I’m going to help Castiel one more time and then I hope for peace.”

She studied him as she chewed on a bit of blueberry.

He eyed her almost nervously. “If that’s possible anymore without the Lethe.”

Nyx simply nodded. “You’re scared.”

“A little.”

She looked at him again and then suddenly smiled so brightly that the angel was startled. Slowly, he smiled back as their eyes stayed connected and she laughed as if he had told her a joke. Marv still watched as she sat back down, the conversation over, and began to eat her own pancakes with the vigour of someone who was starving for food. That the Metatron was absolutely fascinated by her was obvious and it made Dean a little uncomfortable. He looked at Nyx the way someone would a last hope.

“We’re done, boys,” Marv said suddenly and looked back over at them. “That was all I wanted.”

“I don’t get the point of any of that,” Dean said as he protectively sat close to Nyx in the other chair.

The angel smiled and for once there was no strain in the smile. “You’re not of our kind. You never will understand.” He looked around the restaurant, at the people, and then out the window. “Give me an hour or two. I’ll find them.”

He left quickly and Dean looked down at Nyx to see tears falling down her face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She sniffed hard and looked down at her pancake stack. “It’s gonna hurt.”

“We’ll protect you. Nothing will hurt you,” Sam said, trying for a winning smile. But Nyx only shook her head and poked the pancakes with her fork.

“Not me.”

~~

Adam’s mood turned worse as the decay of his meatsuit became more and more obvious in the glass reflection. The weight of too many souls in one vessel meant that his power was constantly having to repair the damage, constantly having to work harder and harder at becoming something new and strong. It would only be a matter of time and the twisted mess inside of the human meatsuit would have to leave and find another host.

But at the very least he had something to distract himself with. The demon hadn’t said much though the monsters had worked her and the angel over with methodical brutality. There was something in Meg's constant mockery that irritated the monster. It annoyed him even more than the way the angel would look the other way rather than scream, and Adam found himself hating the demon.

So naturally he started devoting more of his attention to her. 

Adam crouched down in front of Meg's feet, shackling them neatly into the cross bar. The large frame had been converted to the specifications of his demon’s memory and still smelt of fresh iron and wood. Adam hummed in his throat as he worked and he felt the demon twitch when his fingers brushed the soles of her feet.

“Inside this demon’s memories,” he began in a conversational tone, “is something about that Alastair. He broke you all, eventually. So I think torture won’t do much to you.”

“Got that right,” Meg grumbled.

Adam flicked a bit of dirt off his shirt and stood. “So I have to explain something to you.”

The monster closest to Meg yanked her hands overhead until they were flat to the board and handed Adam a knife.

“I don’t care if it does or doesn't get me want. But this will be slow. The Mother wants the child and she wants you. I can’t bring just you, demon. That’ll have her angry and I just can’t have that.” He smiled. “You are going to scream, as loud as you can, so your angel hears it. And he will tell us how to call her back.”

“You really don’t know him that well, do you?” Meg asked.

“And if that doesn’t work, that venom you can feel in your blood? Just a taste of what will be. I’m giving you the option of telling us before you become something so foul and twisted you will never recover. You aren’t strong enough, are you?” he finished. “The angel? Icing on a cake to us. The Mother wants new creation to test, to learn from, and you will be very interesting to pull apart. You were God-touched, demon. And we want to know why.”

Meg chuckled. “Come on. You don’t think that this was just some twisted joke of God's to fuck me over?”

“It is possible.” His head twitched down and to the left. For a moment, he listened to something and then smirked. “Either way, we’re going to have such fun finding out, demon.”

The knife he held began to drag down her neck, pressing so that a line of blood began to follow it. Meg kept her eyes on him as the blade dug deep into her.

“So what was it about Castiel, hmm?” Adam asked, his constantly damp skin sliding against hers as he leaned against her shoulder. “You’re a demon, baby. He couldn’t have been that good in bed.”

Meg turned her head, repulsed by the monster.

“Or was he? Maybe it was because he made you moan and beg for more that you let him fill you with such abomination.”

Almost teasingly, he ran his blackening fingernails down her shirt and slid the knife between her legs, ignoring the way she tried to clench them shut. “I could do the same. For different reasons, of course. You’d forget all about him with me.”

“No faithful in the monsters too, huh?” Meg asked, trying to shut out the feel of those slimy fingers.

“My mate is very demanding. At one time she didn’t need any male when she had me already inside of her. And now it isn’t just me that she needs. She needs others to mate with to create other lives, so our kind can survive.” He shifted a little. “Your angel? In our world we would have considered him yours in the same way. She has expressed some interest in him though it hardly worries me. She always returns to me.” Adam’s tongue snaked out and slowly changed to a forked appendage, wetly sliding up her neck. “You taste like the angel. You and he must be together again? Or at least delving into that old demon sin?”

Meg closed her eyes.

“No need for shame. Smells and tastes like that linger for days and days. Lust and sex leaves a lasting… residue.” His head bent just a little closer. “You could always pretend I’m him, if it makes it easier. I'm wondering why you both fucked in the first place.”

Before she could squirm away, he forced his mouth on hers and she almost threw up at the taste of rotted flesh. Adam’s fanged teeth bit into her lips, causing blood to burst through the cuts he created, and she growled angrily at the forced kiss. It was when she felt his tongue worm its way into her mouth that her self-control snapped.

He howled as her teeth snapped through the tip of his tongue and he pulled away, letting her spit the disgusting piece on the ground. Cradling his bleeding mouth with one hand, he smacked her across the face with the other hand, and she coughed as she bit her own tongue.

Meg coughed, stars spotting before her eyes.

“Oh, we are going have such fun if you don’t submit,” Adam murmured as his face slid into a distinct copy of Alastair’s, and he moved the knife up her body to press into her side. The wound in her neck began to pulse harder and harder as her blood began to pound through her body, her adrenaline rising in preparation for torture. “Are you scared?”

“Got a long way to go yet,” she whispered.  Her body twitched as the knife sank a few inches into her side.   

"What a pretty little girl," the Alastair vision murmured and she rolled her eyes forward again.

Her mouth was filling with blood and she spat a gob of it at his face. He snarled and slammed his fist into the side of her face. The fracturing of her jaw was a loud crack and she groaned in pain.

“Do you know why demons are stripped bare to torture?” he asked. Meg blinked because she knew she wore clothes still and he’d not once hinted that he wanted her naked. “This demon I ride knows. It’s about humiliation. Easier access too. But I think the way the clothes will fool your body into thinking it is safe will be just as fun. For a while anyway.”

Leaning away, Alastair’s face seemed to blur as he picked up another knife, this one etched with demon marks.

“You know what I like about you?” The disguised Adam wrenched her head back using her hair as a lead. “You fight. Not always openly. Oh no no no no.” He tapped her cheek. “You fight smart. You wait. Like a viper in a nest. Sweet little girl who lost her faith so young I bet. A demon your age doesn’t find faith often. You were so eager to get it back too.”

His teeth glinted razor sharp close to her mouth. “You are willing to fight anyone and anything to protect that bastard of yours. That’s …”

The knife buried deep into her side.

"So noble. In the way only a demon could make it something so wrong as well."

He twisted it a little, listening to the smoking sound of the blessed blade carving into her flesh with almost clinical precision. Meg’s eyes blurred at the painful pressure, until his face swam before her and white eyes matching equally white teeth stared back at her.

“You’ll call her back to you, Meg. You know you will.” Alastair’s face faded to Adam’s decaying visage. “And how will that feel do you think?”

“M-might as well k-kill me,” she managed when the burning cut of the blade moved up her sternum. “I’m not giving you what you want.”

“Mm. I don’t have to kill you. You’re going to make a beautiful monster when that venom finishes its work. Maybe I'll even have it so new life springs inside of you.” He dug in harder. “You’ll have a new family and just for fun?”

His teeth gnashed close to her ear. “I’ll make sure you rip apart your own daughter first and you’ll just be aware enough to know that her blood is on your hands when you’ve promised to protect her. The only thing you have left in this world, destroyed by you.”

Meg shut her eyes and shuddered at the voice in her ear.

"Won’t that be fun?"

 

 

 


	8. Broken (When Angels Fall)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced to enter a truce with the Metatron, the Winchesters figure out a plan to track down Adam while still protecting Nyx. Meg and Castiel fight the monsters’ attempts at torture, though they know that there is now something starting to poison the demon.

**Part 8: Broken (When Angels Fall)**

Dean peeked out from behind the curtains of the motel window and squinted at the overcast sky. The cold autumn air and the rain starting to fall made the small town grey and dingy, something more depressing than he liked. Considering the circumstances, maybe it had been too much to hope for some warmth and sunshine. It was hard enough to appear light-hearted for the sake of a child, Dean found, especially when the weather wasn’t cooperating.

The Winchesters had been taking turns watching over Nyx; neither trusted the small locks on the door or the wards they had lined the walls and windows with to really protect them. All it would take was a monster to get wind of them here and they’d be on the run again. They’d be completely exposed and there would be no one to bail them out.

“I don’t like this, Sammy,” Dean said as he drew the curtain sharply over the glass. “We’re having to trust angels again and we both know how that usually goes for us.”

Sam adjusted his long legs before he handed Nyx another slice of apple from his bowl. “We’re going to have to do something,” he answered as he felt Nyx tuck into him, her eyes on the history channel he had been watching.

She was always a shadow to one of them now, scared of being left alone, and neither of them had had the heart to leave her anyway. Nyx was frightened and too little, in Sam’s opinion, to fully understand everything. She just knew someone had hurt her parents and that she had to stay safe.

His brother picked up the spare angel sword he’d grabbed from the trunk and tossed it into their duffel bag full of weapons.  “It’s been half a day, Sam. God knows if whatever Metatron figures out is actually going to help us, you get me?”

Nyx looked up, mouth full of fruit as she blurted out, “He’s gonna help.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You get older, kid, you learn not to trust everyone you meet.”

Her lips pursed. “He’s gonna help,” she insisted. “You wrong.”

“She’s arguing with me, Sam!” Dean said and Sam snickered at his offended look. “Real funny, she’s probably getting it from you.”

“She’s three, Dean,” he said before he stretched his arms out to the side. Nyx copied him, right down to his loud yawn, and he gave her a smile before ruffling her hair. “Copying is how she learns, remember?”

“Like how I taught you to swear?” Dean grinned in memory and Sam glared at him.

“I think Cas won’t be thrilled if you teach a three year old girl to swear like you taught me to.”

“Yeah, well.” Turning around, Dean peeked out the curtains again. “Let’s just hope we get to him in time so he can get angry at us.”

Sam threw a balled up sock at the back of his head and when Dean looked at him, he pointed at Nyx. She was staring at them both in turns, clearly trying to understand. Gesturing again while glaring at him, Sam patted her back and handed her another apple slice. “It’s all right, Nyx. We’re going to get your dad and mom back.”

Nyx huffed and then nodded as she turned back to the dinosaur program. “Good.”

Dean let himself smile a little at how seriously she was watching the television before he walked away from the door again. “What is taking him so long?” he muttered aloud as he paced the floor in front of the television, ignoring Sam and Nyx’s grumbles that he was in their way.

The door suddenly swung open and a surly voice was already complaining before either brother turned around.

“Did you know that, hundreds of years ago, an angel working so closely with humans would be punishable with torture? Especially after he had been ordered back to Heaven with the rest of them?” 

Spinning around on his heel, Dean stared at the Metatron, who had appeared with his arms full of books and maps. Marv’s glasses had slid down from his eyes and he kept wrinkling his nose to try to push them back as he shuffled over to the table to set his books down. It was hard still to reconcile the former King of Heaven and a master manipulator with this mousy man who looked like a librarian.

“Then why are you here?"

The Metatron shrugged a shoulder. “I’m a masochist, apparently.” He started going through the stack of books and maps, blowing dust off the covers of several. “But I have what we need. Though it could still be my death sentence to help my brother out, we did have a deal. So once I point you there we….”

“We?” Dean walked over and picked up a book to look at it. “Since when is there a ‘we’?”

Marv snatched the book out of his hands. “These are delicate! First and only of their kind and your hands are—” He held Dean’s wrist as if just the sight of his fingers was offensive. “—too rough. You’ll ruin something.”

Dean rolled his eyes but let it go. “You were saying?”

“I figured that there is a ‘we’ because I am providing you with information. I found where they are and you are going to need to read up on actual monster lore that could help. Not some sort of hunter bias. It is all ‘kill the beast’, ‘stab first, ask questions later’ with your lot sometimes and you don’t look for the actual psychology behind it.” He picked up another book and a map.

Dean and Sam glanced at each other as Marv’s voice took on an almost scholarly condescension.

"There are quite a few stories that you probably never heard of, and the ones about Eve? About monsters who start to try to turn other creatures? Stomach turning. At least, the ones I remember reading are."

Still sitting on the side, Nyx sniffed and rubbed at her nose while looking up at Sam. “That bad?”

“Yeah, Nyx, that’s bad,” Sam muttered, as he turned off the TV and stood up from the bed. “She shouldn’t hear this.”

“Why not?” The Metatron looked over the rim of his glasses at the girl. “She’s already going to be involved, one way or another.”

“She’s three and she’s a little girl.”

Marv still eyed Nyx as he plucked another map out of the pile. “They are her parents, aren’t they? They’re the ones who did it to protect her and she knows it. Don’t try to fool a child, boys; they are the last ones you can deceive.”

Both men looked at Nyx, who smiled at them, and they shrugged.

“He’s got a point,” Sam said. “I think I heard worse when I was little and you kept giving me sugary cereal so I’d forget Dad was out on a hunt.”

Dean smirked. “Minus the sugar high, it worked.”

“Cute. Thanks for the trip down nostalgia lane.” Marv rolled out a map of the local town. “It wasn’t hard to find them. Followed my nose more than anything else. Whatever this ‘Adam’ is doing to the demons, it is leaving an odour. Like… like sulphur mixed with algae. Positively reeks. The turned monsters even leave a sign.”

“What kind of sign?” Dean asked as he helped him weigh the map down.

“Like an aura. It’s not visible to humans.” He snapped his fingers. “You know how you can track something and just feel it around sometimes? Like a bad feeling?”

Both brothers nodded.

“Same thing. Their souls leave behind a residue thanks to how their change goes.” He tapped his finger along the river-line. “Abandoned places, thanks to the way companies have been closing down their factories. That makes it really easy for these monsters to find a den to hide in. This one is on the outskirts. Close to the river.”

Sam began to rummage through the duffel bags. “Did anyone see you?”

“As you probably noticed, this vessel is pretty inconspicuous,” Marv said as he traced his fingers along the river. “This is the best way in.”

Rubbing his bearded chin, the Metatron turned and picked up one of the books he had dropped and laid it down. “The place was full of Enochian wards. Not necessarily to keep someone out but I could feel it draining on me. Someone in there knows something about angels.”

“If the monsters are attached to demons, they might be retaining their memories,” Sam muttered as he looked at the map and began to carefully calculate distance and time.

“It means that those will have to be destroyed. Do that, then at least Castiel can move out easier.” Marv smirked. “Pretty sure little brother can handle himself if you get him set free. Remember? He’s not a helpless kitten, boys.”

Ignoring that comment, Dean ran his hand over his jaw and clicked his tongue. “Damn, this is going to be messy. Can’t see anyway else in except to use the old distract and run for it method.”

“We could just wait, get some hunters up here,” Sam said without any enthusiasm.

“By the time any help gets here, I doubt Cas or Meg will still be there.” Dean straightened up and sighed. “Going to be messy for sure.”

"Adam won’t be easy to kill, you know, if it gets down to that. The closest thing you can use, since the Phoenix is  _technically_ out, is Death’s scythe, but I’m betting that would be impossible to find at this point.” Marv tsked and flipped through his book. “Your one thing you have going for you is that he isn’t really Eve. He’s a small part of her from what you said; like a fraction of what she is. So maybe it gets simpler than we think.”

“Simpler?”

Marv shrugged. “All of this last moment stuff is annoying. You know, you are very lucky I read so much. Then again, what else did I have to do?”

"So what do  _we_ do?” Dean asked, barely able to curb his impatience.

"How do you kill any monster?" Marv countered. He made a slicing gesture across his throat and choked out an odd sound that made Nyx giggle from where she was still sitting. Dean gave her an indulgent smile but when he looked around he was glaring at the angel. "Won’t be easy either, if this Adam is as a strong as you say he is. If you’re lucky, and this is a big if, then you can catch him by surprise."

Dean braced his hands on the table and leaned over the map of the area. “Killing him might just be a bonus round now. Maybe we can, maybe we can’t. I’m not even sure how to get close enough. What we need to do is get Cas and Meg out.”

"You’re risking your lives for a demon? Considering your back history with her, which I know of course, why?" the angel asked. Both brothers paused, because there had been many times where they both wondered the same thing.

Dean looked over at Nyx who was watching them all curiously. “Because of that little girl and Cas.” He looked down at the map. “And she helped save Sam from dying once or twice.” It wasn’t hard to remember how Meg and Kevin had both warned him about the trials to close Hell. How they had told him that it would only result in death, particularly Sam’s death. The thought of losing his little brother had been enough to make him a little grateful that Meg had pushed back hard again his intent to close the Gates of Hell.

The Metatron snorted and shook his head. “Right. Don’t ask questions. I get it.” Marv tapped the map. “Go downwind. They may be monsters but if some of them are newly made then they will be relying a lot on their senses. I suggest you go well armed too.”

Sam slid a machete out of a scabbard and handed it to Dean. “This good?”

Marv’s eyes widened as he watched the eldest Winchester spin it with a flick of his wrist. “Still with the guns and knives blazing approach, I see.”

The grin he got from Dean was cool but eager. 

"Not that I’m saying anything about that. It works for me." Marv sighed. “I might have an answer for killing Adam in another book. I’ll be back shortly."

The brothers waited until he was gone with the usual angelic flutter before looking at each other.

“What about Nyx?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low. "We can’t leave her here."

“Maybe…no." Dean shook his head. "We can’t just send her off with Marv. I don’t trust him and if Cas finds out we left her with the angel responsible for kicking the angels out? Not a good move. Meg might torture us too."

He looked at the map and then out the window. “Only have one option and that’s the Impala. We park it far enough away, ward it against demons and angels on the interior with hexbags, we could be fine.”

“And if something goes wrong?" Sam jerked his chin at Nyx. "We have to plan for something going wrong."

Knowing he was right, Dean sighed and moved from the table to crouch in front of Nyx. She shifted around so she faced him. The little girl stared at him and he smiled as if to ease the sting of his words. “Nyx, we need to go get your mom and dad. You have to hide, do you know why?”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Gonna save them from the monsters.”

"That’s right. We’re going to find them but you need to hide and keep safe, okay?" Dean asked earnestly and she frowned.

She thought it over. “Want Aunt Linda. She’ll help.”

The sudden words made Dean swallow. “She can’t, Nyx.”

"Why?" she asked. Behind Dean. Sam closed his eyes. Everyone had avoided talking to Nyx about Linda to keep from hurting her.

“She’s gone away. To Heaven,” Dean explained.

Nyx’s tiny chin jutted out and she looked so confused that neither knew if she really understood. “Want to be with her.”

“Not for a long time, if I have a say in it," Dean muttered. “We need to go soon. I need you to stay in the car.”

“Not scared.” There was something rebellious in her blue eyes that made him shake his finger at her and look as stern as he could in the face of those large blue eyes.

"We are. You need to stay safe in the car and if we don’t come back right away, you get to Kevin, okay? You can do it, we know you can. Like how you escaped the monsters." When she looked down, he reached out and grasped her by the chin so she had to look him in the eye. "Nyx. Do you understand?"

Swallowing, she nodded. “Want them safe.”

"We’ll find them." Dean smiled shakily. "You’ll see, they’ll be fine."

~~

The blade slid slow into Castiel’s chest, followed by a tearing sound as skin and clothing gave way under the pressure.

The sound carried over the radio’s low steady hum, the warbling of a singer about how the times were changing.  The slow rip of flesh was louder when the song reached its apex and, with his head bent down, Adam hummed along in warble of harmony to the tune. He turned his wrist as the guitar began its louder whine and his own voice rose to mimic it.

Castiel sucked in a deep breath as the angel sword tore a new hole in his shirt and abdomen, piercing deep enough for blood to well and Grace to start to leak through the wound. Confined to moving only as far as the sigil-etched chains could let him go, the angel kept himself as still as possible against the wall. To move, to struggle, would only mean that the wound would deepen. The monster’s temporary amusement in carving sigils on his body, partially to keep Castiel further restrained, was slowly ebbing. Castiel could still heal fast, even with the wards painted on the walls, and it was not as amusing for a monster not to hear his screams.

“You know, for an angel?” Adam clicked his tongue and made a smiley face on Castiel’s blood-dotted stomach, watched his muscles contract in reaction. “You’re pretty resilient.”

Rolling his eyes back until they closed, Castiel exhaled the breath he’d been holding.

The sharp crack of Adam’s palm against his cheek made his eyes open, this time to see the monster leaning on the wall beside him. “That was a compliment.”

When the angel said nothing, he smirked. “It’s not enough for you to hear her screams when they start, Castiel.” Adam licked at his bloody fingers absentmindedly. “You deserve some suffering yourself.”

The cold look he was shot made Adam smile.

“You don’t think so?” He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of Castiel’s dark hair, twisting so that his neck was exposed. The angel heard the crack and pop of his own neck as his head was wrenched further back and he winced, ready for more pain. Yet all Adam did was stroke his fingers up Castiel’s vulnerable throat. “You made the Mother suffer. Allowed Crowley to torture her poor body. Our precious offspring were nearly destroyed because of that.”

There was nothing he could say to deny it, so Castiel simply kept his eyes on the ceiling again. The sigils close by were weakening him to such a point that even fighting would be useless. Normally he knew he could try to fight Adam, maybe not win, but he could at least fight; but what chances he had were gone when the sigils were in place.

It was worse when he had no doubt that the shifters would kill Meg if he did fight.

“In Purgatory we would have hunted you and flayed you alive. A trophy angel.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” Castiel asked, managing to sound bored. The sword against his stomach turned and he held his breath. He was more battered and bruised than he expected; he hadn’t felt this sore since he had been human. The difference was that as an angel he could try to push past that pain faster. Managing to get an insolent look on his face, he lowered his eyes to Adam. “Get it over with.”

“You think just torturing that pretty vessel of yours is my plan for you? That I just want to rip you into little angel shreds?” Adam sounded hurt. “You don’t think much of monsters, do you?”

He stepped back and tossed the angel sword to one of the shifters standing close by. Castiel flinched as he watched it lick at the blood on the blade, knowing why it was being done. Adam saw his wary expression and smirked.

“Cutting into you was just for fun. Watching you break? Watching the way you will eventually find a way to get me that little girl of yours? That will be what I’m actually dying to see.” He headed to the door with the shifters. “Of course, when the Mother gets to you, Castiel, I don’t expect for there to be much left over for me to play with.”

“You think that threatening me with your monster mother is going to convince me?” Castiel asked as he watched the monsters linger in the hall.

“Not yet.” Adam gave him a condescending look over his shoulder. “Soon though. Stay in here for a few hours, listen to your little demon scream, and we’ll see how eager you are to fight me.”

~~

The angel sword had been already tainted by Grace. The metal of it was still hot from  _his_ body, still dripped with blood as it moved through the folds of her clothing and teasingly pierced her skin. Meg had been actually counting on that; twisted as the monsters were, they weren’t big on imagination it seemed. Letting her think that Castiel was tortured and dying was amateurish. Boring even.

It was still hard to anticipate such pain though when they turned her attention on her next.

The angel sword slid between the slots of her ribs, ever so gently, and stayed there with wiggling precision. She couldn’t stop herself from wincing just a little as it went deeper with each small twist. Meg took shallow breaths to keep the blade from penetrating her further.

“He wants her alive,” someone said over her head. “He infected her a few hours ago and that new soul is going to be ready for her soon. Don’t go too far in. ”

“Oh, I won’t. It is more her mind he wants us to rip apart.” The fetid breath touched her face and she smelled something earthy, with an undercurrent of rich copper that was sickening. Struggling to keep her eyes open, Meg caught a glimpse of the two shifters working on her. “We just need to find that sweet spot. The demons were always good at finding it in us.” The grin she saw was crooked. “I’d rather take my time and…”

Meg grunted as the sword twisted and she felt the metal scratch bone with agonizing accuracy.

“Find the perfect spot to play with.”

“Oh, come on.” Meg bowed her back and turned her head as best as she could towards the monster. “I’ve had centuries of this. You guys have had… what? Half a day?” She laughed hoarsely, her chapped lips parted in a cracked smile. “That’s nothing and I’m already getting bored.”

His head lifted abruptly and he sliced through her shirt so it was fully open from collar to navel. The rest of her clothing was equally as tattered now.

“You want it a bit harder?” he asked calmly. His face melded and changed, lingered between expressions, and then transformed into a direct copy of Castiel’s. Meg held his gaze unflinchingly. The shifter smiled at her but the grin was not the angel’s. It twisted his face into a manic expression as he bared his white teeth. “Or would you like it a bit… deeper?”

The gasping sound she made as the other shifter slowly dribbled holy water on her wounded stomach made both monsters chuckle.

“I think she doesn’t like it when you use the angel’s face.”

“Really?” The shifter’s eyes flickered between colours for a moment but the voice remained the same. “That’s good to know. It’s nice that the Father’s blessing makes my turning so much faster. No more shedding, no more waiting. Just instantaneous change.”

He turned his head, revealing a bite mark similar to Meg’s, and she looked at him closely. That explained her one question but now she knew she couldn’t trust anything she was shown. The other shifter grumbled in agreement.

“This is supposed to make me talk?” she asked as Castiel’s double bent and made sure the cuffs on her feet were still tight to the crossbar. “Using the pretty boy’s face?” Meg chuckled. “Really. That’s your ace?”

The shifter’s visage lost its focus for a moment, melted back into the regular features of a smaller man with green eyes and a receding hairline. “You were starting to squeal real pretty.”

“Only because I’m getting bored and have to make my own music.” Meg leaned forward as far as her trapped head would let her. “You guys are gonna kill me with boredom.” She jangled the cuffs. “That’s why monsters are at the bottom of the food chain, baby. You’re nothing compared to demons or angels.”

The face changed immediately into Castiel’s and he launched up against her body. Meg turned her head to the side just in time to avoid his teeth from grazing her cheek, while absurdly strong fingers grabbed hunks of her hair and yanked to force her head back. Meg’s eyes rolled a little as she focussed them on the ceiling to try to avoid his glare. The shifter breathed out heavily in her ear.

“We’re nothing? Who trapped who, bitch?”

His grip tightened and his other hand grabbed her by the chin to force her head to turn. The face was Castiel’s and for one second, Meg believed that the hatred she was seeing really was an angel’s. The deception of it sent her stomach turning because it was so believable. As much as she thought she had the right to distrust Castiel sometimes, the thought of this visceral hate from him somehow that punctured an armour she kept carefully stacked against him. The shifter noticed the slight change in her body; she was trying so hard not to squirm that the sounds she let escape were of honest pain.

“We’re going to win, demon,” he said. “Your kind? You’re all going to learn what it is to be the outcasts now. The Mother will make all of you pray for death.”

The fingers on her chin tightened until she couldn’t stop a muffled cry from escaping. Her teeth cut into her tongue as he continued to squeeze, threatening to break her jaw. 

“You’re going to feel it all: the infection, the pain. There’s nothing you can do,” he breathed against her ear just before the tip of the angel sword made a tiny cut just at her collar. It scratched a tiny path until he dug it into where Adam’s fangs had pierced the skin of her neck. Her guard down, Meg screamed at the unexpected pain such a tiny cut could make as the blessed blade met the poisoned flesh. Delighted at the sound, the shifters both laughed and missed how her eyes glittered black and her jaw clenched in determination.

It would be easier to just stop fighting, she realized. This had happened enough times to her that she knew exactly what to do. Her eyes fluttering closed, Meg let her mind drift away as they began to try to get their answers from her. 

_She was safe when she kept her emotions locked away._

_They’d never touch that part of her that was weak because they were going about it the wrong way._

_She was safe._

~~

Adam rolled the ball of electrical tape between his fingers as he watched the security tapes. The werewolves and shifters now serving him had some basic knowledge about surveillance and he wasn’t about to risk letting a moment go by where he didn’t see something, anything, of how his captives ‘ticked’. Of how he could use their weaknesses if only he could find them. But beyond some screams that escaped the angel’s stubborn resistance or the demon’s taunting, there was nothing. Nothing from the angel or demon after how many hours of trying to find their weakest spots. He had expected them to fight and then to give in. 

No, it wasn’t just the angel that frustrated all of them; it was the stubbornness of that damned demon.

She should have started to show more signs of her infection by now, even if it was just a fraction of what she would be when the corruption weakened the demon core enough to let him attach a new soul into that body. She should have already caved and given him what he needed because every demon had begged him before to stop. Once they figured out they were about to be consumed, they had begged for death and would give him anything for it.

But this one wasn’t acting  _normal_ .

“If the Mother comes here and finds them unbroken,” he said aloud while watching the shifters start to work on the demon again. “She will be very upset.”

Reaching up, he pressed his hand against his jaw to correct the skin starting to fall away from the fractured bone. Above it, the stab wound hadn’t fully healed; his pierced eye was already starting to fall from its socket again. The decay of his meatsuit was increasing the more power he tried to use. Shifting into Castiel for even that short period of time had forced more cracks to appear and he didn’t want to risk it again, which was why he left the more detailed tortures to the actual shapeshifters. He’d even used the Mother’s gift to strengthen their powers and make their shifting easier but it had cost him dearly, his healing taking longer and longer without all that power. It would be no different for Eve. Connected as he was to the Mother, he could feel her desires and needs acutely. She was using as much power as he was and hers was focussed on creating her children. She was  _suffering_ as badly as he was.

There just weren’t enough demons being released from Hell for the monsters’ souls to attach themselves to.

Letting the sinews struggle to repair themselves on his jaw, he watched the video feed as the shifters left the demon in her torture crossbar and noisily came back into his adjoining room. The smell of her blood on their skin was suddenly an irritant to Adam; he wasn’t sure if there a worse smell than that demon’s blood. He wasn’t even sure why Meg’s blood tasted so wrong to him. It should have tasted as exhilarating as any others; human, demon, or monster. But just that one taste had repelled him and he wasn’t sure why. He only knew that he didn’t want that taste in his mouth again.

The shifter who favoured looking like Castiel cleared his throat and Adam rolled his eyes as he swivelled in the chair. 

“What is it?”

“We’ve been at this for hours, Father. She’s still resisting. She screams, but we’re starting to see that she’s doing it for show.” The Castiel shifter looked at his brother. “If there was another way of forcing her?”

The other shifter snorted. “What? You want to try gnawing on an angel for a while and see if that works?”

“I’m not that stupid. Only the Father could do such a thing and the angel would know what he was doing anyway,” the first snapped. His face turned back into his true face, bones restructuring quickly and he groaned as he stretched his facial muscles.

Ignoring their bickering, Adam stretched out in his chair and watched the second screen and the angel pacing in the room at the other end of the. The camera could only follow him so far, and he often stayed safe in the corner out of sight. After his brief interrogation, Adam had left Castiel in the old packing room, trapped by tethers of magic, sigils, and Holy Oil. The Holy Fire itself he had dampened, not wanting to run out too fast, and as he watched Castiel try to move, try to plan an escape,  Adam wondered how dangerous the angel really was. He couldn’t get as far without help with the way the sigils tired him and Adam had been watching him pace like some caged animal. He’d barely reacted to the demon’s odd cry or two. 

Either he was made of sterner stuff than Adam had expected, he didn’t care, or he hid his emotions well. 

Adam had the feeling that it was the latter. He had seen Castiel’s readiness to protect the demon and the child before. The angel had almost fooled him. Maybe he did need to test his limitations a bit further.

Sliding down a bit in the chair, Adam slapped his hand on the desk and the two shifters who had been waiting for instruction looked up. “Take the demon to see him. Perhaps he just needs some incentive.”

The shifters looked at each other nervously. “Won’t they be dangerous together?”

“She’s not going very far shortly.” He looked over at them. “I think the angel needs to see how bad things are going to get and we can see if it helps him change his mind, mm?”

~~

It was easier for Castiel to lose himself in thought, to mediate and try to think about what he could do, than it was to keep his mind present. He wasn’t going anywhere and he knew it. He had to wait for the right moment.

He could feel the pressure of the sigil cuffs on his wrists, keeping him confined to the tiny space. The wards painted were exhausting him so much that it was easier to sit against the wall and try to ignore the way he was trapped. The flames had been extinguished for a while, though he could still smell Holy Oil and the charred remains of soot on the ground. Whoever had shown them the sigils to use had been smart. The many Enochian wards were strong enough to dampen his power and he could barely keep his eyes open sometimes. The wounds on his belly hadn’t fully healed yet because his Grace was sluggish to react and he could feel his own skin stretching as the cuts tried to mend. Even without the Holy Fire, he was stuck in one space, waiting for some sign that he could try an escape.

Castiel felt useless. He had listened to the faint screaming earlier and had dropped into a steady meditation to try to ignore it. But each passing hour had started to grate on him slowly even when there were no more screams, when the monsters simply resorted to taunting him through the closed door by telling him how Adam would rip him apart. Guilt and fear for himself and Meg had started to wear on already edgy nerves and he’d nearly called out to her several times. But he knew Meg maybe even better than she realized. He knew from his own experience with torture that she was likely focussing on staying alive. He’d done it enough times himself; it was easier to let your mind escape when there was nothing to draw you back.

He didn’t feel the brush of a draft on his skin when the door opened or hear the scrape of metal on the floor. It wasn’t until the door slammed shut with a bang that he opened his eyes and took in a deep breath. He smelled a faint odour of blood, sulphur, and soap mixed as one, so strong that he could taste the smells on his tongue.

“Hey. Wake up,” Meg called out and he looked up in surprising. Rolled in on a chair, Meg sat close to the door with her hands bound. Coming to the edge of the sigil paint as far as he could, he stared at her. He stared at her as if trying to read what she was and the demon smirked at his look. “You don’t think I’m me?”

“Considering the situation? No.” Castiel watched her, searching for some sign that she was a shifter, and Meg sighed.

“I’m not a shifter.” 

“I don’t know that for sure.”

“Look at me, Cas. Really look at me. You can see under the surface, I know you can.” She rolled her eyes thoughtfully as he stared at her. “I ate peanut butter a lot three years ago and you insisted it be ‘organic’. How about that for a random fact a shifter wouldn’t think to use?”

Meg had a point. It really was so ridiculously inane that no shifter would see it as important to an angel. Castiel nodded, surprised that she had remembered. It was such an absurd little craving she had had and was something that he had tucked away in his own eidetic memory to chuckle over sometimes. 

“Okay.”

Satisfied, she sagged a little in the chair and winced when the movement dragged her torn clothing over her wounds. Castiel studied her as she relaxed. The damage done to her was only on the surface and her sliced clothing revealed in patches what the shifters had done. Itching to reach out and touch her, to try to heal her, Castiel bunched his hands into fists and took in a deep breath to force himself to stay where he was.

“Are you…”

“I’m in a ton of pain but I’m fine, mostly.” Her neck cracked and he noticed how she twisted her wrists against the restraints. She arched an eyebrow as she watched his expression. “You know why they put me here, right?”

“To get me to break by seeing the damage done to you,” Castiel said before he nodded at her, eyes on her wounds. 

“Cookie for you, angel.” Meg fiddled with the chair and shook her head. “Seriously, I stand by my ‘monsters are amateurs’ rule. That technique only works on humans anyway. The pity thing isn’t big on demons or angels, is it?” 

Castiel let his gaze linger on the bruises and cuts already healing on her body, the ripped clothing, and then the bite mark turning black on her throat. “I’m not sure that’s true,” he said, voice lowering a little before he turned away.

“Oh hell, Cas, don’t get too emotional on me over this,” Meg grumbled uncomfortably. “I need big surly self-righteous prick Castiel, not ‘my bees were just exterminated’ Castiel.”

He ignored that insult.

“Why are you doing this, Meg?” He tested the limits of the confines, only to be frustrated by being unable to get close to her. “You know that I’ve been through worse than what they could manage.”

The demon rolled her head to the side, her hands still working at her cuffs. The bruising on her arms was turning deep purple from the pressure of her struggles.

“Maybe it is because I can handle taking it this time, you know? It isn’t hard to handle when they are carving into you.” Chuckling, her voice slowly began to slur into a low rambling. “Sometimes, hearing someone else get knifed, someone that you… that… well, that’s never easy. It’s how Alastair would break us in Hell if we were too stubborn. He’d trot out some shade of your past and use memories and any weakness he could find to snap that control. It is pretty damn effective and I would know. Just a thread of hope and it is destroyed in the next hot poker in your ribs.”

As if startled she had blurted that out-loud, she clamped her mouth shut and eyed him.

Castiel stared back and came back to the edge, watching as her head tilted forward. “Meg.”

“I think now is the worst time for a conversation about feelings and human love-y dove-y crap if that’s what you’re planning,” she warned cagily.

“I don’t care. Or were you trying to do the same thing you said Alastair would do? Give out that slice of hope and just to see how deep it would cut when it wasn’t true?” he asked, trying to go for levity but losing it.

Meg exhaled slowly, fingers twitching in the cuffs. “I told you three years ago.” She fidgeted in her seat and looked away. Her voice dropped, too low to be heard by anyone but him. “I made a choice and if there is one thing you should know about me by now, treehopper, is that I don’t back down from those often.”

The use of the nickname made his eyes narrow thoughtfully at her. “Causes change. We both know that.”

“Causes change,” she agreed. “But not the reasons why I have them.”

Wanting to understand what it was she was trying to say, he moved as close as he could, fingers itching to break free from the cuffs. Like Meg, he bore bruises on his face from the depths of the earlier beatings to keep him confined, his own lips bloody and chapped from biting into them, and he saw what Meg saw from the reflection in her eyes.

“You’re not looking too hot, Castiel.”

He shrugged and knew that moment, where Meg had shown some fragments of how she actually felt, had passed.

"They’re finding it hard to crack me, if you’re wondering," Meg said and he watched her take in a shaky breath. "Thankfully."

"I don’t think I’d expect you to crack before me anyway,” Castiel muttered. “This can only get worse, Meg.”

“Well, we both know we’re here for a reason.” Her head turned to the side to look around the room. “Nyx, right?”

“We won’t give her up,” he said for her and Meg nodded.

“Didn’t come this far to give in to a couple of half-crazed monsters, Castiel.” The demon tracked her eyes over the room. “I’m just avoiding their questions as best as I can.”

Castiel pushed his cuffed hand into his pocket and felt the necklace and his tiny journal. The monsters had only searched him so thoroughly and he had struggled enough that they hadn’t realized everything he carried in the depths of his coat. Drawing them out, he stared at them as if he could find some use for them in escape. Ripping out a page, he crumbled it into a ball and tossed it to the side in some sort of macabre humour. When he glanced up, Meg was staring at him. At the hand that was dangling her necklace.

“Where did you get that?” she whispered and he rolled it between his fingers.

“When I took it off you after the fire… you never asked for it back.”

“I thought I’d lost it.” Meg looked up at him. “You kept it?” He nodded. “Why?”

“So I could give it back to you someday.” He moved to the edge of the sigils again but felt the restrictive barrier pushing back at him.

Meg looked around as the footsteps started to come closer and then her dark eyes actually seemed to brighten as she looked at him.

“Well, hold on to it until we get out of here and then you can give me it back,” she said wryly and he smiled at her. She cracked her neck again and he saw the thick black and green fluid dripping from the wound on her neck.

“It’s starting to hurt?”

Meg’s face pulled from easygoing smirk to a cooler frown. “I’m not changing.” She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder awkwardly. “Not yet, anyway.”

“The venom is moving slower on you then.”

“Mm.” She looked around the room.

“Meg.” Her gaze stopped wandering and settled on him again. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m fine.” Her eyes darkened to black. “Just… preparing for the inevitable. You’ll probably get the honours.”

Castiel twitched. “I hate when you talk like that.”

“Come on. Adam saw us fighting and these monsters aren’t half-bad. What better way to punish you?” Her voice rose too loud for the small room. “Get me to turn, let me loose, so I kill the brat. That way you kill me. Simple. You’ve been dying to stick your sword in me again I bet.”

Though he glared at her for the innuendo, he knew she was doing it for whoever was eavesdropping. He glanced around at the overhead ventilation and at the door behind her back. He made sure his voice was just as loud and angry as hers. “I’ll kill you before you hurt her. The way I should have killed you before when you had no use left.”

The confused muttering they heard at the door made him smile a little wanly at the demon and she winked at him.

“That’s my boy. Nice to see you back.” The way she drawled it made Castiel wish it had been said somewhere else at some other time. She groaned and he knelt down a bit so he wouldn’t be overheard. 

“I won’t hurt you, Meg.”

Her lips turned down a little. “You might not have a choice.”

Castiel stared at her. “One thing I learned after being human is that I always have a choice, Meg.”

Something in her stilled at his obvious belief and she stopped fidgeting in her seat so that he could see her confusion and her fear. As if she wanted to believe him more than she was letting on. He looked away when the door creaked open and a shifter came in to drag her chair back out again. It was hard to watch her leave and he had to force himself to stay still, afraid if he did openly try to fight for her that it would give the monsters only more to use against them.

The shifter that took her smirked over his shoulder at the angel and his face turned into a copy of Castiel’s. Standing in the doorway, Adam leaned against the frame and smiled at the interaction.

“The little demon is real fun when she sees you cutting into her, angel.” 

Castiel let a low sound rumble in his throat and he stepped forward. He reached out with his hands as if to use his Grace to pull Meg back to him. Anticipating that move, Adam raised his hand. Instantly, the flames started on the Holy Oil again and he was confined once more, the fire leaping and burning the sigil cuffs off his wrists. Castiel cried out and snatched his arms back close to his body at the pain of it.

“She’s going to turn, Castiel. Eventually.” Adam stayed still and his almost mockingly unbothered pose made Castiel long to reach across the fire and tear his throat out. “And I bet you know what I’m going to do.”

“She won’t turn. Meg is too strong for that.”

“I haven’t seen a demon resist yet,” Adam said but the angel saw the way his eyes darted to the side. He was lying. 

“I know Meg.” Castiel gave him a small head tilt in response. “I know her and I know she won’t give in.”

The monster’s smile took a more vicious twist. “I think we’re about to find out. When she turns, and she will, I might turn her loose and let her hunt down that child. The Mother may only be interested in blood, I think; she’ll love having something torn apart before it is brought to her.”

Castiel could only glare as the door swung shut behind the monster and left him alone and trapped.

~~

They were several miles away from the warehouse that the Metatron had pointed them to when Dean pulled the Impala off the dirt road and parked close to the water. The river ran in enough twists and turns that it wouldn’t be hard for them to make their way, unseen, towards the building in the distance. Nodding to Sam to stay in the car, he took out his modified binoculars and eased out of the car.

Sam studied him for a moment before he hesitantly checked the backseat. Sitting safe in the back seat, looking absurdly small, Nyx was staring out the window. She looked far more alert than he expected. This time of night she was usually asleep or at least drowsy. Reaching over, he unbuckled her and then sat back down, rubbing at his temples as his headache flared. Nyx crawled over the front seat, ignoring his muttering that Dean would be upset that her still muddy shoes were leaving marks on the upholstery. Her eyes looked very large as she stared through the window while tucking herself safe beside Sam.

“Don’t be scared,” he said, keeping his voice lighter than he felt. “We’ll get your mom out safe.”

She pressed close and he looped an arm around her shoulders, no longer wondering why it was so easy to try to keep her happy and unafraid. 

“We’re going to keep you safe but you have to do exactly what Dean told you to do, okay?” Sam squeezed her shoulder and Nyx nodded. “Now what did he say to do?”

“Hide in car until sun comes. If not back, then… and then….” She gave a puzzled sound. “Fly? Like angels?”

“You know how to fly like your dad?” Sam asked and she shook her head.

“Just gotta go.”

“Go to Kevin, right.” Tapping his phone, he showed her the picture of Garth’s house. Sam knew that they were taking a big risk hoping Nyx understood how to get to Kevin. She’d somehow managed to teleport away from trouble Meg and Castiel had been in, and both Winchesters could only hope that it would go so well for Nyx again. “We’re going to keep you safe.”

“Don’t want you to go,” Nyx whispered and she looked up at him. Sam looked down into that adoring expression and smiled fondly, vaguely aware of the unsettling, almost paternal feeling he had when she looked at him like that. “Dean too.”

“We’ll be right back with them. You’ll be safe.”

“Sick.” Nyx sounded unhappy and Sam frowned. 

“Your tummy hurting again?”

“Not me.” She poked him in the side. “You.”

Sam had no answer that wasn’t going to be a lie and he had the suspicion that Nyx would be able to tell. He was saved from thinking up some stupid response when Dean opened the door and slid back in. The little girl looked up at him, all wide blue eyes and pursed lips, and he blinked, looking at her and then at Sam.

“What’s with the puppy eyes?”

“She thinks we won’t come back.”

Dean tweaked her nose gently. “That’s silly, Nyx. We’re coming right back.”

“Aunt Linda was gonna be back,” she muttered and Dean leaned over to put his face close to hers so he could hear her. “She’s gone.”

“We’re not going to leave you, Nyx. You’re safe with us and we’ll get them back, okay? Trust me.” Dean stared intently at her and Nyx’s confused expression made him wait until she nodded, though she still looked worried. Then, before he could lean back, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Dean was so startled  that he looked at Sam as Nyx gave his cheek a sloppy kiss. 

Sam smiled. “She’s been pretty cuddly lately.”

“Not sure where she gets it from,” Dean said before pressing an equally affectionate kiss against the top of her head.

“She just likes us, right, Nyx?”

The little girl nodded. “Best friends.”

  “You can braid Sammy’s hair and paint my nails later then,” Dean joked before he leaned back and looked out at the distant warehouse. “All right. You stay in the car, and hide, you got me?”

Sam grinned and didn’t say a word as Nyx nodded. “Got you.”

“Good girl.”  He smiled and ruffled her hair. Nyx’s look at Sam and then at him, one that was far too serious for a child, made him frown. “What?”

Kneeling beside him, her hands went to his face and held it steady. “Not your fault.”

“What?” Dean blinked at her and she gave him a firm nod. 

“Did best you could.”

The words were a strange echo of another time years ago and he chanced a glance at Sam.

“You got any idea what she’s talking about?” he asked and Sam shrugged.

“Come on, Dean, time to go.” He plucked Nyx away from his brother and got out of the car. She grumbled loudly that he could put her down but he ignored her and put her under a blanket in the backseat. “You stay here and you stay safe.”

She made a face and flipped the blanket over her head. Knowing he had little to lose in terms of dignity, Sam smiled and patted Clarence’s head when she offered him. “You tell those friends of yours to keep us safe.”

“Protect the big moose,” Nyx said as Dean left the car and Sam smiled. He hated the nickname on a whole but the way she said it was affectionate enough.

“Stay here.” There was something about how alert she was being that made him nervous. He knew she was like Cas a little, with those too knowing of eyes, but he wondered how like Meg she could actually be. “I mean it.”

Her nose wrinkled and she cuddled down under the heavy blanket until she was hidden. “Fine.”

Still not liking how calmly Nyx was accepting this, Sam made sure he locked all the doors before Dean tossed a camouflage cover over the car.

~~

Meg could barely hide her groans as the shifter standing in front of her began methodically burning her fingertips with a lit match. They weren’t torturing for information now. They were playing with her.

Somehow that was worse.

They knew something she didn’t and Meg hated -  _hated_ \- not being the first to know something.

“You know,” said the shifter across from her, the one who still wore Castiel’s face. “You cry uncle, I can make this a little sweeter on you. For a little bit of incentive of course.”

Shifters, even those amped up, weren’t the brightest sometimes, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. “I’ve had the real thing already,” she said as he stood up, mouth coming inches from hers.

“So it’d be easy for you to lay back and imagine, I bet,” the shifter taunted and Meg looked him in the eye.

“Not really. Trust me, you wouldn’t measure up to him,” she countered and he slapped her hard across the mouth. The starbursts that sprang into her vision made Meg gasp and shake her head in surprise, spitting out a small bit of blood.  She bent her head back and laughed as the shifter stepped back and transformed into his true self again. “Oh come on, you have performance envy against an angel? Your kind gets more and more pathetic.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, demon.” The shifter raised the angel sword. “I’m the one holding the knife.”

“Lot of good it is doing you too. How many hours have you been at this and you’ve gotten, what? Nothing out of me? Your big Daddy’s not gotten a thing either.”

Her vision started to swim as she stared at the shifter.

“You’re… not gonna win this one,” she said, feeling drunk and out of sorts so suddenly. The shifter stepped back, recognizing what was happening. The wound at her neck was starting to pulse on its own, dark blood oozing from the puncture wounds, and Meg whimpered as her head sagged down.

~~

_She was back in Hell, in the Pit. She could feel it in the way the air seemed to close around her and push hard on all sides. An oppressive pressure meant to smother her in heat. She could only see such darkness and yet her eyes ached from staring into something hot and bright for too long. Her nose felt like it was being burned from the reek of sulphur and ash and even her flesh was beginning to scorch from the heat._

_Strangely, her body didn’t feel like her own anymore._

_Low humming and the slow scrape of something metal being sharpened made her turn her head to the side and struggle to see through the dark. Her hands twisted at the clamps holding her arms down and she groaned as the darkness eased, just a little. Just enough to let her see that she wasn’t alone._

“ _Quite the pickle, quite the pickle.”_

_Alastair stood at his table, just the way she remembered him last time, just before she had escaped the Pit. Before she had crawled her way free and found ways of avoiding ever going back to his rack. The shadows that enveloped them had parted only enough to highlight his skeletally thin face, his true appearance just as scarred as any demons. He looked hideous even now and Meg pulled hard at the cuffs on her hands. The empty racks on either side of where she was propped were stained dark with blood._

“ _Last one on the rack for the day, little girl.” He smiled, broken teeth showing through his cracked lips, and he looked at her face curiously._

“ _This isn’t real,” Meg whispered._

“ _Of course not. This is a hallucination. A good one too. One you think you deserve. You’ve been a bad little demon, Meg. What with the angel and the girl and you’re working with hunters? Such a bad demon.” Alastair’s true face twisted in the shadows and Meg pulled even harder. He rested the sharp blade against her face. “Your face has changed, Meg.”_

_She whimpered as a pressure began to wind tighter in her body, as if something was fighting to get out of her and fight back._

“ _You don’t look as beautiful to me as you once did. You used to be so torn up, so scarred, so pretty.”_

_She thought she felt the blade dig deeper and, with that power of that belief, blood began to drip from her cheek in reality as well as the hallucination._

“ _Let’s change that and make you something special. You can go to the head of the class and I’ll let you torture your own little brat soon.”_

_Meg screamed when the hallucination wrapped her in agony and fear. As the venom’s fever began to twist and heat within her, she writhed and screamed for escape._

_~_

Still caught in the circle of fire, Castiel heard the scream and felt the sound nearly vibrate in his ears as he listened. Closing his eyes, the angel lowered his head and began to pray.

~

The shifters watched Meg with nothing but curiosity now. They had seen the venom’s effects before, seen what it did to demons. It pulled them apart at the seams and weakened them so monsters could take root. She hadn’t been infested with a soul yet but when Adam was ready, eventually one would put to blend in with her. Even if the soul couldn’t take over, she’d simply fail to turn and die. 

But the demon was actually fighting it.

“We should tell the Father.”

There was something eerie about her screams, something so lost and incoherent. Considering how much she had taunted and tormented them earlier, it frightened them. Setting the angel sword down on the bench across from her, they backed away and out the door, latching it securely behind them. They were both desperate to put distance between themselves and the demon.

Meg gasped for breath as she woke at the loud clang of the door. It had snapped her out of the hallucination and her eyes opened to focus on the angel sword they had left on the metal bench. Her eyes deepened to onyx and she let her head sag forward as she tried to focus on it. Tried to get it to move towards her like she should have been able to.

But for all her will, it stayed in one spot and she let her head thump back on the headrest out of defeat.

Meg knew that she needed to save her strength, and with a low moan of pain she fell back into unconsciousness.

~

The few monsters Adam used as guards patrolled the walkway outside the building, carefully keeping time with one another. In the middle of nowhere with no humans likely to get too close to an abandoned building, after all these hours they were easing up on their duty a little. Anyone who came close would likely be an angel or demon and there were enough wards now to weaken any of them. 

None of them noticed a man slipping along through the shadows, coming from the river side and downwind of them. Or the second man that moved fast across the yard and then pressed back into a shadowy stairwell to hide. Neither man moved until the guards separated to start their slow and steady patrols up the south-side of the building. 

A low cough was what alerted the first guard to there being someone or something nearby. He inhaled deep and twitched his head to the side to take a look at what he could suddenly smell. The butt of a gun striking his head made him crumple to the ground in a heap, his flashlight rolling away from his hand.

Dean caught him mid-slump and dragged him off into the darkness beneath the fire escape. Squinting through the shadows, he noticed two other guards coming up the left side and he quickly flicked the light on and off several times at the other side of the building. There was a flash in return near the storage shed, just before the monsters were around the corner close to Sam, heads lifted as they smelled something in the air.

“There’s something out here,” one said loudly. Dean couldn’t tell what he was, though he guessed that his decaying skin meant one of the new brand of monsters. The monster turned around to try to track the smell in the air and while his back was turned Sam snatched the other monster and dragged him back into the storage shed with him. The loud scuffling sound in the doorway made the first monster turn again and Dean shot off a round, the shotgun bullet putting a large hole in the monster’s side, sending it to the ground. He sprinted over the walkway and leapt on the monster, punching him down so his head cracked on the sidewalk. He heard the slash of Sam’s machete from inside the building and the squelch of flesh being hacked.

“Dean!” Sam said sharply and Dean saw the glint of metal. Between punches, he turned to catch the machete midair, and in one smooth pivot he chopped off his own monster’s head.

Together, they dragged the bodies to the dark corner and crouched in the shadows.

“We’re gettin’ better at this,” Dean muttered as he wiped his bloody hand on his jeans.

“Yeah? How do you figure?” Sam asked.

“We’re not caught yet,” he said and his brother rolled his eyes. 

“You jinx us and I swear I’m letting the next monster eat you.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fair but I’m too good at my job for that.”

“You see anything?” Sam asked, ignoring the grin he was getting. “It’s pretty damn dark.”

“Just saw a whole bunch of Enochian sigils and demon wards. Might explain why Cas hasn’t busted himself out.”

Sam squinted at the main building, trying to see through the fogged windows. “He won’t leave Meg either.”

“Provided they’re still alive.” Dean reached into heavier duffel bag Sam had hidden against the wall and pulled out the small gas cans they had brought. He set them down and unwrapped a glass bottle as well. Letting Sam keep a look out, he poured the gas in and stuffed a rag into the mouth of the bottle.

“I don’t think Adam took them just to kill them.” Sam had to shake his head a few times to keep himself focussed. “We have to get some of these wards down but we can’t just go around spray painting. Those were the first three but the tracks had at least ten people moving up and down the dirt paths.”

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Dean asked, lifting his eyebrows as he wound another part of the rag around the neck of the bottle.

“Light ‘em up?”

“Might as well. Least fire won’t kill Cas or Meg.” He thought that over. “Or I think it won’t.”

“Distract the monsters, get them out. That’s our plan. So who’s running with the gas and who’s the bait?” 

The brothers stared at each other and both held out their fists at the same time. Holding Sam’s gaze, Dean shook his clenched fist in unison with him and then played his move. They both looked down at his scissors to Sam’s rock and the other man gave him a knowing grin.

Disgusted with himself, Dean gave him the finger. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t look so smug.”

“How many years have we been playing this and you still pick scissors most of the time?”

“Shut it. Sometimes I win.”

“I let you win. It gets pathetic if I always win,” Sam countered and he forcefully took the gas cans from Dean. “Remember to look like their next meal, Dean.”

  “Shut it, Sammy.” Dean dusted off his pants and stretched . “You know, I hate to point it out but my doc said not too much physical exercise.”

“Pretty sure she wouldn’t want you sniffing gas and playing with matches either,” Sam said without looking up as he unscrewed the gas caps. “You going or not?”

Dean glared at him as he picked up the bottle. “Yeah, I’m going.”

~~

Adam stared at the shifters as they stood across from him, both fidgeting nervously. Slowly, with exaggerated care, he removed his feet from the desk and stood up.

“What do you mean ‘she’s not cracking’?”

“We thought we had it. She seemed so… so ready!” the eldest said, eyes on the desk and not meeting Adam’s. “And we were doing our best to wait.”

“Demons are tortured for decades before they are created, Father. This one is old. Cracking her in a day is impossible.”

Adam stood up and walked around the table, noticing how the first shifter flinched. “I understand.” He bent close and his eyes flared orange. “But she is full of  _my_ influence and she should be turning.”

“It affected her for a little while but all she did was hallucinate. It didn’t turn her enough that we could try to put one of the Mother’s children into her body.” 

“She’ll still go rabid anyway,” the second said. “It’ll start to show. There’s no healing from that.”

Adam clicked his tongue and tapped his fingers on the desk. “The Mother can use her, even if she is fighting it. Whatever made this one just a little bit special could be what keeps us from falling apart.” He reached up and quickly patched up a piece of his scabbing face. “We’ll have her fully infected in a few hours. If it works or not we’ll see.” 

His eyes went to the desk. “The Mother still wants her and the child.” He twitched a little, looking to the side. “I think.”

“So what should we do?”

“Take a few more hours. Weaken the body, play the shifter with her. See if you can get her to call the child to her.”

The first shifter coughed and Adam’s head snapped up. “What is it?”

“She’s not falling for that. Seeing the angel, it weakens her but it doesn’t pull her down.”

“The angel is a weakness. Find a way of making it work.” He moved around to his side of the desk. “We need them both weak. Both of them or it won’t work.”

“Yes, Father.”

Adam opened his mouth to say more when a rock shattered the large office window and struck him in the side of the head. Startled by the pain, he picked it up and stared at the blood it was now flecked with. The shifters stared, just as confused, before they all looked out the shattered window. Growling deeply, Adam slammed the rock onto the desk and stalked over to the window with the shifters just behind him. Standing out in the loading yard a half-storey below them, a bow-legged man smirked at them.

“What’s up, guys? Club Med’s going good?”

Adam glared at him through the broken window. “Dean Winchester.”

“That’s my name,” Dean said, smirking. “Didn’t take much to find you guys.”

“Well.” Adam leaned out. “We weren’t expecting company. But since you’re here… I have some children who are very hungry.”

“Nah, I won’t taste that good.” The hunter looked around. “Plus, they are a little busy already.” Adam’s head jerked up to see that the nearby storage sheds were on fire and Dean grinned, whistling to catch his attention again. “You guys have an angel and a demon that happen to be part of our little fucked family. I want them back.”

He held up the bottle and wiggled it. 

“That’s it?” Adam asked. “You versus all of us. For the sake of those freaks?”

“Yeah but I owe the freaks something. Plus do I really look that stupid?” Dean clicked his tongue a few times before he reached for his lighter. “I have company.”

Beside Adam, the shifters nervously moved. They knew of the Winchesters and what they were capable of.

“Rip him and his overgrown brother apart,” Adam said as he watched Dean light the rag wick. “But leave something so the Mother can see what we’ve done to them. For her revenge.”

Dean backed off a step as the shifters started to move for the window. “Sounds fun but I think I’ll pass.”

“I don’t think you have a choice. What did you think was going to happen, Winchester?”

“Not much.” Dean grinned up at him through the window, still just out of reach on the pavement. “Just wanted you to pay me enough attention for just the right amount of time.”

He hurled the bottle towards the wall and the glass shattered on the brick. There was a snick and hiss as the flaming rag lit up the gas soaked wall and Dean grinned.

“Looks like we’re good here,” he called out and took off just as the fire alarms inside the building went off. Adam turned to see that the rooms at the far north of his makeshift home were on fire.

“Get him!” Adam shouted at his shifters and he slammed his hand on the PA button. The old system shrieked to life. “The Winchesters are here. Kill them!”

Crouched close the burning building, Sam grinned as he watched the door. “Guess Dean loses points for subtlety.”

He watched as another of the monsters came out and licked his lower lip thoughtfully. “What I wouldn’t give for some angel mojo right now,” he muttered. He tossed the now empty can to the side and reached for his own lighter, balancing his knife in the other hand.

“Next best thing.”

The building went up in flames beautifully at the same time the monster rounded the corner towards him. With a casual swing of his long knife, Sam sliced its head off and watched it drop lifelessly to the ground. He grinned and grabbed the duffel bag he’d been holding as he sprinted for where Dean was running, having circled the building to find the next open door. There was shrieking inside the building and the locked doors in the north-side began to pop open as confused monsters tried to find them through the smoke and ash. He shook his machete free from his holster and tossed Dean his own knife when he passed him.

Dean’s joy in battle was obvious as he and Sam began to fight their way together into the building, his grin cold and calculating, his eyes a brilliant shining green in the firelight. The fire was crawling slowly over the building, eating away at the more resistant brick and steel, and giving them just enough cover to slip through the monsters panicking from the fire. Sam picked up the second gas can and at Dean’s signal he made his way down the front west hall to try to distract the monsters with even more fire. They just needed enough time to destroy the sigils and the marks, enough time to find where Castiel was being hidden and avoid meeting up with Adam.

~~

Nyx waited in the car, just like they told her to. She was determined to be brave like Dean and Sam had told her to be. She would be safe soon, they had promised her.

Snuggling deeper into the comforter, she lay there until the whispers of her friends telling her that she needed to save her daddy began to grow louder and louder. Nyx rolled to her back and stared out the window at the building in the distance.  The sight of the fire frightened her and she was scared with no one there to protect her. She needed to find someone, anyone, who would keep her safe. The old car, with the way it smelled of Dean and Sam and home, had made her feel safe until she had felt something else pushing at her.

Something that hurt.

She had felt frightened because her mother was warning her, with that tug of connection they shared, to stay away from her. Nyx could feel it, and knew her mother was hurting. She could feel it.

The same way she knew her father was hurting but he wasn’t trying to keep her away like her mother was.

The whispers were loud, telling her where she should be while she felt touches on her hand like someone was holding hers.  At the same time, they comforted her and told her not to be afraid.

With a determined little nod, she tucked her Clarence into his blanket and told him to stay still, to stay hidden. She did it very sternly, just the way Sam had told her to stay, before bopping the toy on the nose and reaching up to pluck the lock up. Very carefully she opened the door, slipped under the camouflage cover, and slammed the door shut. She held a hexbag to her chest as she walked a few steps away from the car and looked up the dirt road.

She knew just what to do. Nyx closed her eyes and thought of a safest place she could be.

~~

Adam’s anger started to build as the Winchesters avoided his monsters and began to burn down the warded walls. He had forgotten, even with Eve’s warnings, how slippery those stupid humans were. He only thought they would come back to save the angel and he had made sure Castiel was deep inside the building. A place where they could be trapped but no, of course, that wasn’t going to plan.

Burning the entire compound down to save an angel  _and_ a demon? Stupid and incredible. 

Hunters did not save these creatures. The thought that these humans had managed to surprise him cut the monster too deep in his pride.

Adam grabbed a shifter who went to run past and forced him to stand still. “Find them. Kill them.” He pointed at two other monsters who looked ready to run. “You two, go back to the angel. Make sure he’s either kept inside that fire. We still need him.” He looked at the last shifter. “Turn the demon.” He rolled a small ball  through his fingers at him, the last of Eve’s eggs he still held, and the shifter cradled it close when it came into his hands. “That’s the last one I have from the Mother. No use waiting. Either way, she dies.”

Without waiting for an answer, Adam disappeared to hunt down the Winchesters himself.

~~

The smoke was already coming into the room and he had to press his hand to his mouth to stop the way it fouled his mouth. Smells of blood, burning flesh and hair, and algae permeated the room and choked what fresh air remained. But Castiel remained focussed. He listened to the howling of monsters, felt a growing heat in the building and became more and more aware that there was panic and fear now in the warehouse.

He smiled a little because he knew what that meant.

“Dean, Sam, thank you,” he whispered, staring up at the ventilation shaft. Still restrained by the fire and the sigils, he stared at the iron grate and debated on shouting to them but the chance of them hearing his voice were slim. He’d have to wait and pray they could make it through alive, pray that they could find him.

He had to hope that they could stay one step ahead of Adam and his monsters.

Coughing at the smoke, Castiel waved it away from his eyes. He wanted to shout to Meg, to tell her to hold on and to tell her to wait, but that wouldn’t help.  They had moved her earlier, he thought, because while she had screamed it hadn’t been as close as before. She was as stuck as he was and there was a chance of Adam coming back. The angel didn’t have any doubt that Adam would rather see him dead than escape again. 

Amazingly, with each crack of the outside walls burning under the force of the fire, Castiel could feel more and more of his power coming back to him. The wards were being destroyed and he already felt stronger than he had in hours. If only the Winchesters would hurry up and extinguish the flames, he could help them. Get them all out of here and away from Adam.

Desperately, he searched out with his strengthening Grace to where he guessed Meg was confined and felt instead something else brush up against his power. Not threatening like Adam was, but something frightened and small.

The feeling that someone was staring at him made Castiel turn slowly on his heel and look across the fire to the shadows.

Nyx was crouched against the wall across from him, clutching a hexbag to her chest. Her bright eyes were large and her tear-stained cheeks were dirty with soot. She plucked at the burlap sack and made a soft sound, like she was about to cry .

“Nyx,” he whispered, barely able to believe that he was seeing her. He expected Dean or Sam, not a little girl. "What are you doing here?"

"Got scared and didn’t want to be alone." She looked impossibly fragile, especially when hiding in the shadows, and Castiel swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“Come here," he whispered and she took a few steps into the room. "It’s okay, Nyx. No one can hurt you with me around."

Over the shouting rooms over, he was aware of footsteps drawing closer that were heavier than Dean or Sam’s steps. Nyx looked behind herself and then up at him. With the fire separating them, he couldn’t grab her without burning his hands again and he didn’t want to risk hurting her. Castiel crouched down, ignoring the way the flames seemed to grow in warning, and stared at her. His own blue eyes glowed a little as he watched her.

The fact that she refused to get too close to the fire told him how scared she was.

"I’ll protect you. You don’t need to be scared." He glanced around the room, trying to find something, anything, he might have missed to get the flames down just enough. He had to reach her. It was when he looked at Nyx again that he spotted the hexbag Dean must have given her. "Throw me the bag, Nyx."

She looked down nervously and took a deep breath before giving the bag a childish throw. Sticking his hand through the fire, Castiel bit down a cry when the flames licked at his skin with agonizing heat and caught the bag. Filled with herbs and salt, the bag was stuffed to the brim and he ripped it open, dumping it over a part of the circle before promptly slapping the bag onto the flames. Holy Fire was stubborn, more so than any other fire could be, but if he knew if it fell just enough he could have a chance. With one last heavy slap, he threw the bag down and planted his foot on it, keeping the fire from going over the oil too quickly. The flames  had died in that tiny space and he jumped forward.

He leapt out of the flames just before they sprang up again and quickly turned on his heel to face Nyx. She stared at him in obvious wonder and he smiled at her while hiding his burned hand behind his back. He touched her hair with his other hand as his Grace slowly healed the damage to his fingers.

"Are you okay?" he asked and she nodded, nervously looking behind herself.

With a gentle pat to her head, Castiel moved around her and dragged his palm against the edge of the metal doorframe to cut it open. He ignored the sting of the new wound as he dabbed his fingers into the cut and quickly closed the door again. Feeling Nyx shadow him, he began to swipe his bloody palm through each of the sigils and  felt his Grace starting to return at full force within the room. Each destroyed sigil felt hot to the touch and he realized that the fire was starting to destroy the interior of the building. 

Tiny hands suddenly clutched his trouser leg and began to tug. Shaking the blood off his fingers, Castiel turned and crouched down in front of Nyx. 

“Still scared?” he asked as he pushed her dark hair out of her face and smudged the soot on her cheek with his thumb. Reaching up and putting her hands onto his arms, Nyx wiggled her fingers, muttered “up” and he scooped her into his arms before standing again. Nyx pressed her face against his neck as she almost climbed inside his coat to get as close as possible to him. 

“Scared."

"You were very brave," he whispered against the crown of her head as she hugged him. “That’s my girl.” 

“Want to be safe,” she insisted, voice muffled by his neck, and Castiel hugged her. It was so easy to hug her to give her some comfort, now that he knew what it meant to her to be safe with him. Years ago this would have been confusing but now it made sense.

With his lips just touching Nyx’s forehead, his blue eyes slowly opened again as the door swung open.

Two monsters, one a shifter, the other a werewolf, stood staring at the empty circle of flames in shock. The open door swung back and forth as they turned to stare at Castiel next. One looked at the little girl in his arms and growled in an animalistic way, taking a few steps forward toward them. Castiel felt Nyx start to turn at the sound and shushed her.

"Keep your eyes closed," he ordered, one arm still supporting her as the first monster charged. Not knowing why his Grace came surging back stronger than before, Castiel lifted his hand and focussed.

The white beam that shot out of his hand filled the room with light, destroying the monster into a smoking ruin, but he kept Nyx’s head tucked against his neck as the remaining monster charged again. Grabbing the collar of the shifter’s shirt with his free hand, he threw him down into the flames and gave the soft underbelly a hard kick.  He ignored the screams and the smell of burning flesh, concentrating on holding his daughter.

Nyx cuddled closer and he made sure to keep her from seeing the monster.

“It’s okay," he muttered against Nyx’s ear as he kept his mind totally on her and backed out of the room. He locked the door behind himself, ignored the monster’s shouting, and started to head for the stairwell. "I’ll keep you safe."

~~

It was hard to figure out which way to go, with how massive the old building was, but Dean had had a good idea judging by how many monsters kept spilling out to attack. They were spooked though, Adam’s control clearly slipping as the fire started to destroy more and more of the massive lot. Dean kept close to the walls and avoided most of them when he could, his attention totally on getting through this alive.

He knew he was in trouble when he tried to cross a catwalk that led deeper into the building and found himself stuck between two large mastiffs. They stood on opposite ends of the walk, growling and salivating as their fur stood on end, and Dean gave them both quick grins.

“Good dogs. Sit.”

One snapped and growled deeper as it padded out onto the walk. They were skinwalkers but stuck in dog form and pure animal now, the red glint to their eyes giving them a hellish look. Dean looked at one and nodded before taking off for the other one. Both dogs charged at once, and the closer he got to the larger mastiff the more obvious it was that it was just waiting to tear his throat out. Quickly judging his distance, he ducked and rolled as they both leapt for him. The dog he slid under just nicked his clothing with its paws as he continued to roll out of the way. The two beasts collided and he kicked out hard with both legs to send them toppling over the edge of the catwalk. He heard them yelping as they landed in sickening thuds and Dean rolled to his feet, snatching his gun out of its holster.

The dogs had shifted back into their human forms, lying still on the metal grate below. 

Dean wiped at his bloody mouth and looked up. He could see the glow of flames still burning through the walls and he smirked. Not moving too fast but it had distracted the monsters and was giving him time.

The bonus was the smoke screwed with their more acute senses and they were scrambling as the Winchesters had used incense and salt to distort the way the flames and smoke carried, to ruin the monsters’ sense of smell.

Dean squinted through the fire and saw Sam walking over the bottom floor, looking for any sign of Castiel or Meg. He whistled and Sam looked up. “You got anything?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn,” Dean whispered. “Where the hell did he put them?”

“Like I would tell you that.”

Eyes widening, Dean swung out instinctively as he turned to come face to face with Adam. When the blow was blocked, his gun tossed aside, he lifted his other fist to strike and the monster grabbed him by his elbow, wrenching so hard his arm dislocated. Adam’s fist slammed to the side of his head, and sent a cracking agony through his skull. Dean went down on his knees and over the roaring in his ears he heard Sam shouting his name.

“Winchesters.” Adam spat the word out in open disgust and he slammed him back against the rail. Dean shouted as his shoulder was reset by the impact and Adam struck him again across the face. He licked his bloody knuckles and then did it again. “You little bastards.”

“Thorns in your side huh?” Dean managed to laugh as he was hauled up by his coat collar. “You didn’t learn anything from that bitch of your other self?”

“Oh, I did.” Adam extended his fangs in threat. “That the Phoenix is long dead. What exactly is your little ace in the hole now? I’m too strong for some weak human.”

Dean swallowed because he didn’t have an answer. “Go on, kill me.”

Adam ignored the heat of the fire. “You think that sacrificing your life to save some angel and his whore of a demon is worth it? What would your,” his face changed into John Winchester’s, “Daddy say?”

Dean had to look away. “You son of a bitch.”

“That’s what I figured.” Adam leaned down so his mouth grazed the hunter’s pounding pulse. “How would you like to be a monster, Dean? You can show the world what you really are. A killer.” Strong fingers yanked harder on Dean’s hair. “Your little brother can be your first meal.”

He could feel the teeth just starting to graze his skin and Dean looked down to see Sam scrambling up the walkway to try to get to him in time. 

“You’re finally going to realize what a perfect monster you can make, Dean,” Adam murmured.

Before Adam could bite down, Dean felt a rush of air and then the monster was peeled off of him and thrown back. Collapsing to the floor, Dean gasped for breath and saw Castiel standing between him and the monster. The angel’s coat was burnt at the hem from the fire and he looked bruised, but he kept between Dean and Adam as if he was going to protect his friend with his life. What caught Dean’s eye was Nyx, tucked safe within Castiel’s arms.

“Nyx?” he asked and she waved at him, beaming happily as her father used one hand to keep her boosted up against him. Dean gaped at the child. “I - I told you….”

“She came to find me, Dean,” Castiel said without looking away from Adam as the monster scrambled to his feet. He held her tight and lifted his free hand in warning. Adam’s orange eyes were fixed on Nyx and when the little girl turned to look, his grin turned savage.

“Told you it was only a matter of time before you delivered that little brat, Castiel.”

The angel’s shoulders drooped a little and at first Dean thought it was out of defeat. He had seen how Adam had affected the angel before. But before he could take a step towards Castiel, to let him know he had his back, he saw that his eyes were starting to glow. 

“Back off,” Castiel said, voice low but powerful.

Adam was stunned by the sheer power the angel was exuding and by the fact that his own power seemed sluggish in response. Somehow the angel seemed stronger and more fierce than before. “You’re nothing, Castiel.”

Castiel let his wings spread in warning as the glow about his body and Nyx intensified. All he could feel was an innate protectiveness of her, an incredible rush of power meant solely to protect her and Dean, and he knew that he had to keep her safe. He let every ounce of his restrained Grace slowly unfurl and the force of it made the little girl tremble in his arms.

“I’ll kill you before you touch my daughter or my friends,” he threatened and the shadows of his wings did a hard snap in the air, extending outwards. The loud singing sound of Grace and light permeating the smoky air was so loud that it boomed through the warehouse as Castiel lifted an arm. Adam stared, bewildered at the sight and the force of will he could feel pushing him away. Dean threw his hands before his eyes just as the angel used a flash of power to send the monster tumbling into the air and through a burning wall with a scream.

The high-pitched fury of Adam’s scream, echoed by a sound like glass being struck, echoed in the air as the glow faded.

Castiel swayed on his feet and watched where Adam had been thrown through the wall — hopefully to the outside — as he let his power slowly fade back into him. His charged Grace healed his battered body, bathing his insides in soothing warmth, and he sighed at the sensation of it.

In his arms, Nyx shivered and he leaned his head back a bit as she straightened up from her cuddling position. 

He looked at her carefully, making sure she wasn’t hurt. “Are you okay?” he still asked even though he could see nothing had harmed her.

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

“Good girl.” He felt her arms slip around his neck again and he turned to face Dean while Nyx hugged him. A relieved half-smile finally touched Castiel’s lips. “You came for us. Thank you.”

The hunter was glaring at Nyx. “She was supposed to stay in the car.”

Castiel gave him a wry look. “She’s Meg’s daughter. What did you expect?”

Behind Dean, Sam jogged up. His machete was dripping with blood and he himself was soaked in sweat but he was mostly unhurt. When he was sure Dean was okay, he turned to give the child a look very similar to his brother’s. “Nyx, you promised.”

Castiel rocked his head back so she had to look at him again.  “Didn’t mean it,” she admitted and he nodded, understanding her.

“Meg’s daughter for sure,” Dean said, giving her an exasperated look. “You are so lucky you aren’t my kid, Nyx, because I wouldn’t let you watch cartoons for a week.”

She eye-rolled, an exact imitation of him.

Castiel adjusted her in his arms, aware of the cracking beams and the stifling heat in the room. “Take Nyx back to the Impala. Quickly.”

“Hey, we came here to get you out and we’re going to get you out,” Dean argued and Castiel smiled a little at how stubborn his friend sounded.

“I know. You did help us. Without the wards I can actually move now.” He tightened his arms around Nyx and let them lead him towards the stairs. “I need to find Meg.”

“We can find her together. I mean, we’re all here and we can keep Nyx safe,” Sam insisted and Castiel breathed in sharply. Dean heard the sound and turned on the bottom step to face him.

“What happened, Cas?”

He didn’t say anything but there was something so bleak in his stare that both Winchesters realized that something was wrong.

“Who helped you get here?” he asked to avoid the question.

“Believe it or not,” Sam made a face, “Marv.”

“What?” Castiel led the way to the door, still on the alert for any monsters, and the way he looked at Sam clearly showed that he didn’t believe him. “Why?”

“He didn’t say.” 

“He’s got something he’s up to,” Dean said.

Before he could ask what Dean meant, Castiel heard Nyx murmur in his ear for his attention. He looked at her and her blue eyes connected with his. It was just a spark of understanding between them, something startlingly clear, and he realized Marv had helped because of her.

It was so strange for her to try to tell him something like that, so he squeezed her a little to comfort her.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Now go with Dean and Sam.”

“Want mommy,” she whispered.

“I’m going to find her.” Castiel looked away from Nyx’s earnest eyes as they opened the side door to the cold night air. The fire was getting closer and closer to this side of the building, gaining speed as it devoured the frame. As he handed Nyx over to Dean, he drew several lines on the door with the still healing cut on his hand and focussed. His voice dropped to a whisper, “Metatron.”

There was a flutter and his rebellious brother appeared, ruffled and looking put out.

“What is with the Winchesters and destroying first, asking questions later?” Marv asked as a greeting. He dusted himself off and looked at Castiel, obviously pleased with himself. “So they found you, huh?” The angel’s eyes widened as he saw Dean holding Nyx. “What is she doing here?”

“Don’t ask. She’ll get hell over this later,” Sam said but Castiel stepped between them all. 

“Take them back to the Impala.”

“They just burned a building down to save you,” the Metatron pointed out. “You take them.”

“I need Meg. I’ll be right behind you.” Castiel turned back, not leaving any room for argument as he ran back into the building that was starting to fall apart.

Holding Nyx, Dean was aware of how quiet she was and he gave her back a gentle pat.

“Fine. This was such a big effort and he still thinks he has to go pull some heroics to save a demon,” Marv muttered as he put his palms on the Winchesters’ heads. “You’d think he loved her or something, huh?”

They were saved from answering as he zapped them back to the Impala. Without saying another word he left them where they were and in the confusion neither brother tried to guess where he went. Sam patted his hip and realized he must have dropped his machete. But Dean’s insistence that he get in the car so they could get the hell out of there made him forget it.

~~

Meg had listened to the singing sounds and started to laugh as she recognized it as Grace. She knew that sound so well and she threw her head back to laugh harder. Each laugh made her chains and cuffs jingle but it felt so good to laugh that she kept doing it even when the laughter turned into almost choking hysterics.

“He’s free,” she called out, not caring that maybe no shifters were around to hear her laughter or know how glad it made her. She’d woken back up from another small trance to the smell of smoke and the sound of dying monsters. Winchesters, she figured, likely saving the bestie. 

Meg wrenched hard on her cuffs but they were still stuck to the crossbar. Squinting through the heat and murky air, she saw that the angel sword was still on the bench, too far away to be of use since she couldn’t summon the will to fight and get it to her. She was tired and she wanted to fall asleep again.

“That’ll be great,” Meg whispered and her head rolled back on her shoulders. “Die burnt of fire. First time for everything but I can’t remember if it actually would be my first time.”

With a heady sense of surrender, she let her eyes close. 

The door creaked open and she reluctantly opened her eyes to see Castiel staggering through. The smoke made it hard to focus on him and stung her face and eyes. All she could really see was his face and lazily her head turned to the side. Using one hand, he began to unbuckle her cuffs, and Meg noticed that his touch felt strangely cold.

“It’s me,” he offered as he started to pick her up. “Castiel.”

“Cas?” It was so hard to focus on him. There was something glowing in his hand and her eyes were drawn to it.

"It’s okay, we’ll get out of here," Castiel said when she finally stood at his side. "We’ll find her and we’ll leave."

His hands steadied her and Meg looked sleepily up at him. 

"Clarence?"

"No, I’m Castiel," he answered in a distracted way. "Angel, remember? Come on. We’re gonna call our girl and then run." He pulled her a few steps forward and Meg thought she saw his eyes change colour. "Call her to you and we’ll run."

Meg knew when he barely reacted to the nickname she had used that this wasn’t Castiel. Shaking her head, she tried to pull her arm free of his grip.

She saw his hand lifting in the air towards her, a tiny ball coming towards her mouth. Some instinct warned her of what was coming and her eyes went to the angel sword. Free of the bindings, she managed to get a better grip on her power and then swiped her hand in a circle. The sword spun through the air and buried deep into the back of his neck, so clean a kill that there was no spray of blood, and she watched as this version of Castiel fell to the ground with a stunned look on his face. The shifter’s face went between his true face and the angel’s for a several seconds, before settling onto the shifter’s rounder features. 

Meg stared down at the corpse as she stuffed her feet back in her discarded boots. Nudging the body over, she grabbed the angel sword and clutched it with her torn shirt closer to her chest.

"Glad I was right," she muttered and stumbled to the doorway. "That would have really sucked if I wasn’t.”

_Don’t think about that,_ she scolded herself.  _Save yourself first. As usual._

~

The warehouse was burning around her as Meg tried to find her way out and wearily she staggered through the halls, trying to search for the smell of fresh air to lead her out. But everything was thick with smoke and she was so tired already that she turned around several times to go the opposite way. Using the wall for support, she finally made it to the first floor and then had to stop when the roar of fire consuming the upper levels warned her how close the building was to collapse.

She heard something flutter behind her and she turned, wielding the sword before her as she tried to focus enough to stab.

“Castiel’s demon.” When she managed to see through the smoke, it was clear that the man who spoke was an angel, smaller than she expected, but she knew an angel when she saw one. She swiped blindly at him and he held his hands up as he dodged the sword. “Meg, right? I’m here to help.”

“Why?” It was so hard to concentrate and she swiped the air with the sword again.

“Because it is time for me to help.” He jumped back when the sword nicked the button on his cardigan. “Hey, Knock it off! I’m Marv! The Metatron! Not some monster or demon!”

Meg let her hand drop a little. “You…?”

“Let’s discuss my family problems later. I can help you out of here.”

Marv reached for her arm but before they touched they were thrown apart like repelling magnets, Meg slamming into the wall as he crashed into the stairwell. The demon hissed as her leg was twisted under her body and she heard the angel grunting as he tried to push a chunk of fiery debris off of his legs.

Adam now stood between them, burnt skin starting to peel from his scabby body and as his head slowly turned toward Meg his bloody mouth gaped open at her.

“You little bitch,” he said, ruined jaw struggling to work. “You and your damn… damn angel!”

Meg scrambled to her hands and knees and looked up as the monster stood over her.

“You’re going to regret this,” he threatened and she flinched.

It was Marv who moved faster than she did, scooping up her angel sword and launching himself at the monster. Meg sagged back down, not liking her own weakness but having no choice. Her body was struggling to heal and it was not adapting as fast as it should to her weakness. Before her, Adam was thrown back, startled by how strong the small angel actually was.

Two arms going around her waist made Meg jerk and look up to see Castiel kneeling beside her. His hands tightened a little when she struggled.

“It’s me,” he whispered, eyes not leaving the angel and monster grappling in the fire-lit room. Dumbfounded, Meg studied his face and he looked down at her when she stopped squirming. Not sure why it was any easier to trust this one than it had been the shifter that tried to fool her, Meg let him help her stand, aware that he was staring at her.

A hand smoothed down her back. “Dean and Sam came to get us.”

He held her gaze and Meg ran her eyes over his face. She could feel the difference now as  angelic power touched her and burnt just a little; it wasn’t enough to hurt but let her know she stood in the presence of a familiar Grace. One that reassured her even as it scalded her and the contact made her darkness curl around up around them. Castiel stared back at her before the sound of flesh being struck made them look away from one another.

Marv threw Adam into the air and fell to a knee, heaving for breath. But with Adam now facing the door and his ability to dampen their power suddenly surging, they couldn’t get out and Meg had the feeling that Castiel didn’t want to leave his brother behind to face Adam, despite all that had happened in the past.  

Standing up a little straighter, Marv smiled at the monster as Adam picked up himself up. “So you’re a new monster. That’s terrifying,” he admitted before coughing up a mouthful of blood.

“Get out of my way,” Adam’s eyes focussed on Castiel and Meg, recognizing the joint power they were starting to radiate now that they were back together.

“Or what?” Marv twirled Meg’s sword in his hand. “You’ll kill me?”

Adam’s burning flesh smouldered and fell from his cheekbone to show scorched muscle and bone beneath. “You’re not scared of that?”

“Heaven is already wanting to kill me. You’re just another in a long line.”

Behind Marv, Castiel protectively kept Meg close as he tried to gather enough Grace to wield beside Marv’s. But he could only focus so much and trying to help Meg stay upright at the same time distracted him. Even with Marv’s Grace acting as a buffer against Adam’s monstrous self, Castiel wasn’t sure what he could do. 

Marv charged at the same time Adam swung at him with his fist and the monster shrieked as the angel sword sunk into his chest. Bending at the waist, Adam’s hand grabbed at his chest to try to pull the sword out.

“An angel sword?” His other hand grabbed Marv’s bicep to hold him close before the angel could get away. “That is how you think you can kill me? A pathetic little,” the blade snapped off, “sword?”

Marv stared back as the monster twisted the blade around and chortled abruptly as Adam sank it deep into his stomach. The Metatron felt the pressure as the monster wrenched it up towards his solar plexus and stared at him in surprise.

“I’m a monster, angel, remember?” Adam demanded.

“Didn’t forget,” Marv answered, his voice strained. The Grace in his body rebelled as the mortal wound opened deeper inside of him and he winced as he shook his other arm.  “You’re a monster, right? Leeching off a demon too? I did my reading. ”

The sleeve of his jacket parted and he twisted his hand and swung.

The machete he had stolen from Sam sank into Adam’s neck and with what strength he had left Marv sawed hard to the left to deliver the killing blow. Adam stared at him dumbly, head teetering on the delicate column of his neck, and Marv grinned. 

“Only one good way to kill your kind of monster. You trap it, chop off the head. And then you exorcise that demon it is holding onto.”

Adam’s head tilted back, and Marv watched the smoke starting to spill out of his mouth. The howling sound of a demon was replaced by a higher pitched whine and he understood instantly that whatever it had been possessing the human body was trying to escape, taking Adam’s soul with it.

He slapped his hand down the man’s mouth, trapping the smoke, while his own eyes began to glow with his dying Grace. In the death throe, Adam’s fingers continued to twist the angel sword deeper and deeper into Marv’s body. Speaking out the low exorcism faster and faster, Marv put the last of his strength into his arm and the monster’s head popped off.

Adam’s body began to erupt with black blood and heat, the smoke drifting through the air hotter and thicker than before. It snarled around the Metatron’s body and behind Marv’s back his own wings spread as his trueform battled with the monster for control as the soul tried to latch onto a new host. The gaping wounds on Adam’s body began to secrete orange smoke that wrapped around the Metatron’s body.

Behind Marv, Castiel twisted with Meg in his arms and shoved her down underneath him as Marv began to shriek in Enochian, his true voice escaping. , Cradling her head in his hands to cover the demon’s ears, Castiel stretched his own Grace out to protect her from the unnatural sound as monster and angel twisted around each other in a strange macabre dance. He had to look away as the light became too bright to see through and he lowered his head against Meg’s, noticing how her eyes were instinctively closed.

White-hot wind flashed through the air and incinerated the building around them in a swoop, leaving only the skeletal remains of the building and the remains of monsters who had been trying to escape.

When Castiel finally looked, Marv was standing on shaking legs with the wound in his stomach now gaping wide and pouring out light. Adam was nowhere in sight.

Castiel stared up at him in surprise and felt Meg shift beneath him. Below him, her fingers clenched the panels of his coat tight to hold him close and he heard each shaky breath she took. Marv turned, eyes a bright blue now, and he smiled at Castiel.

“What a story,” he whispered before his eyes glowed even brighter. When his Grace exploded out of his body, it incinerated the vessel he was in. Castiel kept himself covering Meg to protect her and he felt her heaving for breath as the heat from Marv’s death singed her darkness. But Castiel’s Grace twisted around her demonic soul and protected it as if it was his own.

When the roaring noise stopped and only the crackle of fire and the smell of burning flesh remained, Castiel lifted his head a little and felt Meg’s breath against his ear.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he quickly glanced around at the remains of the building. Only patches of frame and wall were left, the dying Grace having been so hot it had destroyed most of what remained. Marv had destroyed himself, taking Adam and the remaining monsters in the distance with him. He had never expected his brother to be that daring, Castiel knew with guilt and admiration.

In reflex, he tightened his arms around Meg and lifted her a little towards him as he moved to his knees. 

“Nothing I can’t — can’t manage,” Meg muttered. He looked down to see her eyes black and her face drenched in sweat. Brushing her hair away from her face, he felt the cold clamminess of her skin when she should have felt hot.

“Meg?”

“Just cold, Castiel.” Her fingers tightened in his coat. “Just cold.”

“Move slowly.” Castiel smoothed her hair back several more times to reassure himself she wasn’t about to fade on him. When she nodded, he stood up and brought her close to help her balance. “He saved us.”

“Don’t remind me. Seems like you angels get struck by consciences at the weirdest moments,” the demon answered dryly as she looped her arm over his shoulder. “I can’t feel my leg.”

Glancing down, he noticed she was favouring it, using his strength as a brace. Her tattered clothing had left her exposed to the burning building but there was signs she was starting to heal beneath it. “It’s a sprain but I’ll carry you. We need to get out of here.”

“Cas?” She stayed still even at his impatient tug. “I’m going to be sick.”

He thought she was joking until she bent over at the waist and began to dry-heave into the ashes of the building. Stroking her back, not sure what else he could do, he stretched out his power and searched for what he needed as she heaved. Connecting with Nyx was easy now and he sensed that she and the Winchesters were already several miles away from them. 

But he made no move to swoop Meg and himself out. With dead monsters and a smouldering ruin surrounding them, the best thing was to wait for Meg to finish being sick so that she could find the strength to move.

It took her nearly an hour before she stopped and Castiel busied himself with healing what damage he could on the both of them. He was tired but using the bits of his power wasn’t as exhausting as before, not when he was rewarded by the sight of a cut on Meg’s face healing over. Not wanting to rush, worried that the damage was deeper, he stayed beside her even when she fell to her knees.

She ignored his offer to help and with a grimace he removed his hand from her back.

Castiel stared at her face, willing to wait even longer, but the loud approach of fire trucks forced him finally scoop her up.

Meg cracked one eye open at the easy way he held her, her bloody hand reaching up and patting his cheek tiredly.

“You’re a cupcake.”

He decided to take that as a compliment when he saw the tired smirk on her lips.

~~

The motel parking lot was empty when Dean pulled the Impala into its spot and did a quick once over to be sure there wasn’t any new surprises waiting for them. He had barely let the Impala’s engine turn off before he whisked Sam and Nyx into the motel room and locked the door behind them. Knocking a few books off the bed, he promptly sat Nyx down on it and began to check her thoroughly for any bumps or bruises. She was sniffling loudly and kept glancing at the door but as he checked her dirty face he gave her an unsure smile.

“They’ll be right behind us,” Dean promised her but she still looked ready to burst into tears. 

“Cas looked pretty up to fighting,” Sam agreed.

Patting Nyx on the head, Dean stood and went to the dresser to get out a change of clothing. Removing his boots, Sam saw Nyx kick off her sooty shoes and then with a tiny cry she ran to the bathroom. She was gulping in air desperately and Sam followed her just as she was sick into the garbage can. Grabbing a spare shirt from the duffel bag on his bed, he set it on the sink before he wet a washcloth. She was shaking as he pressed the cold compress against her forehead. The smoke inhalation was bad enough on them as grown men, let alone how it would be for a child.

“It’s okay, Nyxie, you’re fine, just breathe,” Sam whispered as he rubbed her back and let her heave.

Finally she just sniffled and stopped hyperventilating, her face splotchy and wet with sweat. Sam let her hug him before he picked her up and set her on the sink. Carefully, he wiped her face clean, determined to act like everything was okay even though he was aching for a shower and sleep himself. Nyx held out her hands for him to clean and he subtly checked her vital signs as he helped her clean up.

“Better?” he asked. With a nod, she looked away from him to stare at the door expectantly. Suddenly the door swung open and the Winchesters both went for their loaded guns.

Ignoring their weapons, Castiel half-dragged, half-carried Meg inside. The sound Nyx made was high pitched and full of excitement at the sight of Meg but Castiel held out his hand in warning. Dean grabbed the little girl by her waist when she shot by him and he held her back even though she squirmed.

“Easy there, kid, let her get in first.”

“She’s okay,” Castiel said curtly. “Just a little battered.”

Meg opened her eyes. “ _She’s_ gonna need a lot of booze.”

Sam stepped around Dean and closed the door, glancing through the curtains. “Where’s Marv?”

Castiel shot him a look that had both brothers nodding. “Okay then,” Sam muttered.

Dean sat Nyx down near the radiator and watched Castiel as he eased Meg into the arm chair. Sleepily closing her eyes, the demon barely seemed to notice and didn’t bother to cover the rips in her clothing though they exposed what marks were left. Dropping his smoke-blackened jacket and coat onto the floor, Castiel rolled up his sleeves and disappeared into the bathroom to wash off the soot. Sam watched, noticing how disturbed Castiel looked when he closed the door, and then glanced back at Dean. His brother shook his head to tell him to leave it alone.

"”You guys look like hell," Dean said when the silence dragged too long. Meg’s eyes reopened and she blinked owlishly at him. Almost as if she wasn’t sure it really was him. 

"Yeah? That’s great." She pushed her hair out of her eyes and rocked forward a little. "Thanks for the rescue, I guess."

Dean nodded and looked at Castiel when he finally opened the bathroom door. He looked like he had dunked his head under the tap and done a quick pass to get the dirt off his face and hands. Knowing him, he would just use his power to clean up later anyway. The angel gingerly poked at his own wounds, the ones still healing into fresh pink marks, before he moved to the bags Dean had stacked on the dresser. 

“First-aid kit is in the bottom,” Dean said, knowing what he wanted. Castiel muttered a thank you and Sam squeezed by him to hand Dean and Nyx two glasses of water. Dean gulped down his water quickly and gratefully closed his eyes as it eased the ache in his throat.

Still sipping at her water, Nyx made an impatient little sound before she started squirming on her seat.

Meg looked at her. 

"What’s up, monster?"

"You hurt." Nyx reached out and touched the blood-stained edges of Meg’s clothing. Dean listened to the demon wheeze in a breath and saw her flinch a little when her daughter touched bruised flesh.

"I’m fine."

The faint sheen of sweat showing on her forehead made Dean stare at her and then at Nyx. The little girl clearly wanted to launch herself at Meg, wanted to be held, but he put a restraining hand on her arm. The wounds on Meg’s body were already healing but he wondered if there was something else wrong. Meg parted her torn shirt a little and poked at a lesion that was slowly closing over on her belly.

Sam muttered he’d be back and tucked his gun into his belt before he left.

Dean looked away as Castiel put the first-aid box down on the table beside Meg. “You’re still in rough shape?”

“No.” Castiel’s attention was on Meg. “Her wounds could get infected since she is too weak to heal. The room is warded?”

“Yeah, the best we can.” Dean glanced at the door. “Sam probably went to get another room so we’re not all packed in one.”

“Good.” 

Meg’s shoulders sagged a little but Nyx continued to squirm, making noises as she did.

“Nyx, sit still,” Meg snapped, her voice cracking with anger, and the little girl stared wide-eyed at her mother. The strain in her voice made Dean look at Castiel but Castiel was staring at Meg in surprise. Quickly Dean scooped Nyx up, not liking how this could go if Meg lost her temper; for once he sympathized with Meg considering the damage he could see. 

“Come on, Nyx, let’s get you cleaned up a bit more.”

Meg tiredly watched them go to the bathroom but the loud scrape of the chair being pulled up beside her made her flinch and look away.  Castiel ignored the way she warily watched him and he reached over to cup her chin in his hand. Turning her head to the side, he stared at the ripped flesh of her neck and touched the infected edges with his other hand.

“It’s deep.” His fingers slid in a slow and mindless caress over her nape and her eyes shut as if enjoying it. 

“Hurts like hell,” she muttered as he let her neck go and picked up her bruised hands next. He turned her palms over and looked at the marks left by the cross-bar shackles. 

“These are healing already.”

“You know me. Fast healer if I get away from monsters,” she said, head slumping forward until her forehead touched his shoulder. He caught her and muttered in her ear to hold still before he made quick work of wrapping the abrasions on her wrists. Meg’s fingers caught his and held on to stop him. “Thank you. For coming to get me when you were free.”

Castiel turned his head towards her, staring at her in a searching way. Her one eye had lost the white of it as a ruptured blood vessel discoloured it. But instead of being repulsed, he brushed her hair back from her eyes.

“You’re welcome.” 

His thumb brushed her earlobe and stroked down her neck, feeling the way her skin was growing cold. But as tired as she seemed, somehow she managed to keep her eyes open and he stared at her, thumb still tracing over her skin. She seemed to be trying to read him and he held still to let her, wondering what was wrong as when Meg looked away.

The door opened, bringing with it a blast of cold air that snapped them both back to reality.

“So I got another room right next door and….” Sam broke off mid-sentence at the sight of Castiel touching Meg’s face more intimately than he had in weeks. He shut the door with a snap. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Interrupting what?” Dean asked from the bathroom as he finished helping Nyx into one of Sam’s shirts. She was as clean as he could get her with just a washcloth, no longer looking like she had rolled around in ashes. A frustrated grunt came from inside the shirt as she struggled to find her way through the massive shirt and she was frowning when Dean pulled it down over her head, tying the ends at her feet so that the shirt resembled a large nightgown around her.

“Nothing,” Castiel said as he let Meg go. She stood up away from him and braced herself on the table as she tried to walk.

Sam wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”

“If you’re about to make a sulphur joke, I swear to Hell I’m not in the mood,” the demon said.

"No, it’s just…She’s starting to smell. Not a smoky smell either." Sam winced. "No offence, Meg."

Her eyes lifted to his face before she turned and leaned against the wall. She sniffed at her arm and made a disgusted sigh. “Guess that’s true.”

Following her, Castiel leaned in from behind and took a whiff of her hair. “It is the poison. You’re sweating it. You might be going into shock.”

"Stop smelling me," Meg muttered, shifting away from him. "I just need to get clean."

Dean kept a restraining hand on Nyx as he watched Meg stagger to the motel bathroom. He nodded his head at Castiel and saw the confusion on the angel’s face. Clearing his throat, Dean gave a pointed look at the bathroom and then down at Nyx.

Nyx watched from the bed and Castiel swallowed at the fear in her eyes. She looked at him finally and in a hesitant voice murmured, "She’s sick."

Castiel shot Dean a pleading look, not wanting Nyx to see this.

"Come on, Nyxie, you’re going to help us make up the next room and we’re going to keep the monsters out, okay?" Dean offered as he took her hand.

With one last meaningful look at the angel, Dean picked the girl up and started out for the connecting door to the new room. Castiel saw Nyx look over Dean’s shoulder at him and he managed a weak smile for her, even though he knew it looked strained.

When the door shut behind them, he turned to look at the bathroom, aware of a trickle of trepidation warning him how this could go so wrong. It had all happened so fast. Castiel had seen what Adam’s venom had done to the other demons and knew how quickly it had torn them apart.

Taking in a deep breath, he knocked on the door before going in and found Meg sagged against the bathtub, trying to unzip her boots. He caught her arm before she could fall and helped her sit on the floor. Meg brushed his hand away impatiently and Castiel reached over her head to start running the water.

“You can admit that you need help. We only just escaped, we’re both tired, and you were tortured for a long time,” he said when Meg started to say she was fine.

"Doesn’t mean I want  _your_ help,” she said, sounding more like she was grumbling because she could and not actually meaning it this time.

"Would you prefer Dean or Sam to be here?" he asked as he pulled her up so she stood beside him. She swayed into him, eyes crossing as her vision swam. 

Still, she managed to grin at him. "Depends. Is it a tag team?"

Muttering that she was impossible, he pulled her tattered shirt over her shoulders and the soaked material fell apart in his hands. It sent a fresh waft of odour that made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Meg’s skin smelt foul from the poison, the smell now even stronger since she started to sweat. Deciding to ignore it, he lowered his hands to unbuckle her belt.

The slither of leather through denim was incredibly loud in the tiny bathroom. Aware of the awkwardness, Castiel unzipped her pants next.

“You know,” Meg said, swallowing hard as she pressed against him for support. “If you went slower this would be so much sexier. All that adrenaline and danger, then stripping off. Gets a girl hot, you know.” 

Startled, he looked at her face and she smirked a little, cocking an eyebrow.

"Tempting as that is, I’m not interested in that when you are sick and have been poisoned," Castiel answered finally before he knelt down and pulled the ruined jeans to her feet.

He undressed her with such efficiency that she had no more time for another quip, though Meg clearly didn’t have the energy for it. She had to hold onto his shoulders for balance and he felt her shaking when he let her stand on her own feet while he tossed her clothes into the trash can. Castiel moved carefully around her, turning off the water and testing.

He glanced down to see her eyeing him, Meg’s arms crossed over her chest. “Nurse Castiel hard at work, huh?” she asked.

“You’re welcome,” he said, not rising to the bait as he turned her around and swung her up into his arms.

“You’re getting used to doing that, huh?” Meg sniped at him and he ignored her as he lowered her into the tub.

Yelping at the cold in the water, she shuddered and rocked forward to pull her knees up to her chest, giving him a startled glare. Castiel handed her the soap and washcloth from the sink and sat on the edge of the tub. With a careful eye on his turned back, Meg scrubbed hard at her skin and grit her teeth against each painful rasp. Each scour of terry cloth on her body burned until every hyper-sensitized inch of skin ached. The water turned black with old blood and venom sweat immediately as the soap and water pulled it away in layers. 

Castiel held out another clean cloth to her when the first became black and disgusting. Other than handing her things, he kept his back turned as she washed and scrubbed the stink of monsters and torture off of her body and hair. Meg rubbed at the wounds and the burns until they were raw but clean, before she wearily handed him back the soap.

Realizing that she was done, Castiel pulled the plug and ran the water hot this time so that her skin warmed and actually turned a healthier shade. When he looked at her trueface though, he could see how she still hurt and how much she was trying to hide from him.

He sat beside the bathtub and watched her as she leaned back, one slim leg going over the porcelain edge. Every now and then her face would pull into a frown and he knew that that the drumming sound of water pouring hurt her as much as washing had. Discreetly keeping his eyes on the wall instead of her, he turned off the taps.

"Brings back memories, huh?" Meg flicked the water with a finger. "Except for the venom bit, I guess."

"Why did you do it? I can handle torture, you know that," he asked as he rested an arm beside her on the tub’s lip. She grinned, freshly washed hair clinging in snaky tendrils to her face and shoulders and somehow making her seem girlish. 

"We already talked about this. I’m a demon, Castiel. I’ve had worse done to me and for a hell of a lot longer than an angel or monster." Her back arched and she hissed. Castiel helped Meg turn to the side and held her as she dry heaved over the side of the tub. Holding her steady, he pushed her damp hair over her shoulder and touched the gouge in her neck where Adam’s fangs still made an imprint. It was trying to heal over but the deep punctures were still looking infected. 

"This might hurt," he warned as he pressed his fingers into them. Her scream was muffled by his arm and he felt her teeth sink into his shoulder as he tried to force his Grace to at least repair the damaged tissue. Castiel winced as his fingers went deeper into the wounds and he could feel the infected flesh sucking at his fingers. Her body was struggling to heal.

Failing to heal.

Castiel saw her body relax in the water and left quickly to get the first aid kit. She was still in the same pose when he returned and he quickly grabbed a bottle of peroxide. Meg didn’t fight him as he cleaned the wounds on her neck, only her breathing and the steady drip of the faucet breaking the silence while he worked. It was hard to be gentle with her when he could feel the venom that had been put in her; the temptation to try something more was strong.

He was reaching to grab the gauze when he heard her breathing even out. As he bound her neck wound, he noticed how quiet she remained and he asked her to move for him. She stayed still and he rocked back on his heels so they weren’t as close to see that though her eyes were open, she wasn’t actually seeing him anymore.

Steeling himself against what was wrong, he picked her up out of the water and carried her, dripping wet, back into the main room. 

Castiel wrapped a thin sheet around her once she was on the bed and moved her hair away from her face before he towelled her off gently, fingers lingering over the bruises and marks. “Sometimes I’m not sure if you are brave, arrogant, or stupid,” he muttered. “Or all three.”

He fixed her legs on the bed and sighed. “I’m not sure if I’m just as stupid sometimes,” Castiel admitted as he backed away from the bed.

He grabbed Dean’s duffel bag and took out the angel sword the Winchesters always kept close by and rolled it between his palms as if to warm it. The thought that crossed his mind alarmed him enough that he set it down on the night-stand and pulled a chair close to the bed. He took a seat before he put his head in his hands and slowly dragged his fingers through his hair.

Despite what he was and how he knew sometimes things like this had to happen, Castiel didn’t even want to think about it.

He heard Meg whimper in pain and he glanced up to see her eyes moving rapidly. Wondering if maybe it was the light, he dimmed the lamp with a wave of his hand. He could hear Dean and Sam outside the connected room, muttering to each other about warning the other hunters but that was something he didn’t care about.

All he cared about was Meg. Lying still, pale and struggling to heal, just the sight of her made him afraid. Her power was weak and struggling and he reached out to fix the bandage over the gaping wound in her neck. It still refused to heal under his power and he wondered it was another form of rejection.

But maybe not.

The fact that the shifter had taken on his vessel’s features to get close to Meg had affected her. He noticed she had hesitated before trusting him, but invariably she had trusted him and that gave him an odd sort of hope. Not that the demon could forgive him but that she might be willing to let him in again.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed that. Maybe, if there was time, he could find a way.

If she lived, that was.

He reached across the bed and took her shaking hand, feeling the cold of her skin. Lethe cold; he remembered how she’d always been that way unless he’d warmed her like the years past. Those memories, of lying with her and staring at skylights as he tried to bring comfort to her and himself, were now too sharp and ached too much. Even thinking of sex and comfort hurt because of how it had been severed between them.

He was an angel again, he thought, he should be beyond missing something so human.

But he wasn’t. He’d felt and suffered too much. He had loved more deeply than any angel had the right to.

Meg’s soft murmur made him glance at her face. Her eyes were open but sightless; the effect of the poison, he knew. Gently, Castiel reached up and pulled her lips back from her teeth and then checked her eyes. No sign of transformation. Still a demon to her core, still his Meg.

_His_ .

Meg would kill him for such a possessive thought and he was sure that he’d let her as long as for just a moment he could think it. Angels were not allowed to feel possessive or to feel anything more than a collective love; he’d disobeyed both beliefs repeatedly and in so many different ways.

He listened to Meg’s stuttering breathing as he caressed his hand across her cheek. The prick of thorns was now there, the demon once again restless under the meatsuit. Her true form was fighting the poison and perhaps winning slowly, he could only hope.

Running his thumb across her lips, Castiel stared into her sightless eyes and almost begged to God to have her actually see him and not a fever hallucination.

He heard the door creak open and glanced up, ready to snap at Dean to leave him alone.

Nyx stood in the doorway, still wearing one of Sam’s old plaid shirts with her damp dark hair curling over her shoulders. Clutching her beloved stuffed unicorn to her chest, she looked tiny compared to Dean standing just behind her. Castiel’s breath caught and held at the sight of her. She looked lost and frightened.

“Nyx,” he whispered, heart hammering in his chest when he saw her staring at Meg as if expecting her to just get up. If she was here then maybe Meg…

He looked down but Meg was still unconscious and unresponsive, and he moved his hand away.

“Go on,” Dean muttered to the little girl, giving her a gentle nudge. Still eyeing her mother, she approached the bed beside Castiel. Dean met his friend’s anxious stare. “Get some rest. We’ll keep watch.”

“She’s sick,” Nyx lisped at Castiel, childish voice frightened. Seeing her mother like this was terrifying for her. Castiel looked at Dean accusingly but the hunter was already closing the door to leave them alone. When he looked back down, Nyx was standing in front of him. Her blue eyes, so like his vessel’s, glimmered with unshed tears.

“She’ll get better,” he muttered. It was hard not to look at his daughter without wonder again. This had been who he and Meg had fought so hard to protect, who he’d loved since he’d felt her still as a tiny little spark of life. Who Meg had strangely loved so much that she’d been willing to let a shifter torture her to keep Nyx hidden.

She thrust out her lower lip just like her mother might.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Nyx hugged the unicorn up to her cheek and nodded, accepting his promise with more trust than he could have expected in a child. “Good. She’s got to get better. Love her.”

Castiel closed his eyes a little to hide the pain her innocent words gave him.

Tiny hands suddenly grasped his arms and he shifted back in his chair a little in surprise. His eyes opened as Nyx slowly crawled up his legs, obviously determined to climb onto his lap. She balanced awkwardly, stared into his face for a moment, and then turned around to face her mother. Her arms reached out to grab for her toy and Castiel leaned over to get it for her, his callused fingers catching on the well-loved plush material. He watched her cuddle it while she tucked her feet under his hands to keep them warm.

Castiel had to swallow down a lump in his throat at the way she cuddled into him for warmth.

“Have-ta make sure she gets better,” Nyx said, her voice serious but sleepy. Her head rocked back on his chest and he heard her breathing slowly even out. Castiel gently wrapped an arm around her and took a deep breath as she quickly fell asleep. He inhaled the clean soap smell of her and felt her gentleness and warmth, her innocent trust; all of it was a comfort to him.

His eyes remained on Meg, desperate for any sign that those dark eyes would change and finally see them here.

“Please, Father,” he prayed. He took in a deep breath and reached out with his other hand to touch Meg’s cold wrist. Feeling the throb of her pulse, he wrapped his fingers around hers. “Nyx needs her mother.”

His daughter sleepily murmured in his arms and he closed his eyes before looking back into Meg’s catatonic gaze. The stark realization hit him hard, the very one he’d been denying for weeks now: he hadn’t undone the spell just to save her life. The reason why he’d protected her and had wanted her back as a demon again had nothing to do with Eve or the monsters, nothing to do with the Wars in Hell and Purgatory.

    It had everything to do with the demon he learned to love years ago.

“I need her too.” 

 


	9. Falling (When Angels Choose)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: With the warehouse burned down and Adam lost, Eve swears revenge. As Meg struggles to recover from the venom, the Winchesters and Castiel put into action a plan to keep the monsters confused.

  The night was bitter cold, somehow made more forbidding by the lack of moonlight and the overcast dark sky. Standing in a clearing surrounded by massive old trees, with the bodies of the demons at her feet, Eve swayed on her feet and tried to understand what she was feeling. Her latest brood of monsters, half-turned and failing because she couldn’t devote her focus to them, lay in heaps of smoke and ruined flesh. The souls of the bodies were gone by now, leaving empty vessels, but she had no interest in them at all. She could only stare out at the trees, at the starless sky, and feel empty.

Darkness seemed to stretch out before her, like a long, dim tunnel, and she reached down to touch her stomach in an unconsciously protective movement. She had long since released what remained of her children and they were outside of her body, but this was a stronger sense of emptiness.

Eve felt hollow.

“Something is wrong,” she whispered as her hand turned over and clenched into a fist. Eve’s face twisted into a scowl as she sucked in a deep breath and began to edge herself back towards the nearest tree for support. She managed to move three, four, five steps before a flash of heat went through her body from head to toe and she gasped at the sensation it brought, one that forced her to her knees.

_Adam was gone._

Eve felt it through to the core of her being, as if someone had taken a jagged blade and  sawed it through her flesh and into her very soul. The demon that was still trapped in this body screamed in pain with her.  It was an agony that felt like it was crawling within her to gnaw at inner flesh and all she could do was lower her head to her knees and cry out at it. The feeling cut into her even deeper as seconds passed and then agony moved through her entire body until all she knew was pain and loss.

"He’s gone."

That other piece of her, one that had stayed strong despite the distance, now felt like it had been severed from her, gouged out and dragged into a fire. Completely torn away from her.

Eve threw her head back and screamed in fury.

~~

“Such vigilance. Hovering like you are.” There was a rustle of bags and the sound of a chair being moved close. “It must be that guardian angel mystique you love so much."

With a startled jerk, Castiel woke from his doze to see Death sitting in the shadows on the other side of Meg’s bed. He twisted around on the armchair where he had slipped down to get comfortable, his feet landing to the ground with a heavy thud as he made ready to leap up. His arms tightened around Nyx, who was sprawled out on his chest, and he eyed the angel sword just out of his reach. Castiel’s fingers curled around her soft body as she murmured in her sleep and clung tighter to him, and he swallowed down the bile in his throat, not sure what else to do. 

When faced with Death, he was helpless.

There was a bored look that made him think that maybe Death wasn’t here to do his daily work. When the entity sat back in his chair and crossed his legs with the casual air of someone on a social call, Castiel looked down at Nyx as she sleepily mumbled and her eyes fluttered a little.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he muttered and this time used his Grace to gently lull her back into it. She yawned and immediately fell back asleep. Castiel smoothed his hand over her back and looked up to see Death staring at the little girl.

“You’ve adapted to being a father again well, Castiel. Very much beyond my expectations.”

The angel didn’t answer and Death waved his hand.

“It’s a matter of…. Well, your kind were never meant to reproduce, not really since there were so many of you created at once. So perhaps those three years did you some good.” His thin lips pulled into a smile. “The demon, on the other hand? She—”

“Don’t touch her,” Castiel warned and Death gave him an unimpressed eye-roll.

“Please. If I had intended on killing either you, then I would have done so easily. Or taken that little girl out of your arms.” He still didn’t move from where he sat beside Meg but instead leaned over to remove a sandwich from the paper bag he had set on the bed. “Take the girl into the next room, if you will. She’s not quite ready to see me yet and such explanations wouldn’t be something you aren’t allowed to know either.”

Castiel’s eyes darted to Meg.

Seeing his almost desperate look, as if he was afraid she would vanish,  Death sighed. “Do get a move on, will you? I have things to do today.”

Trying hard not to wake Nyx again, Castiel cuddled her close as he stood up from the chair and shuffled over to the connecting door. He looked over his shoulder but, except for unwrapping his sandwich, Death hadn’t moved. Knowing he could be risking a lot in trusting such a creature as Death, Castiel turned away and knocked on the Winchester’s door. When no one answered,  he opened the door to see Sam asleep in an armchair too small for him, TV still blaring and his head crooked uncomfortably to the side.

Sprawled on one of the beds, Dean was talking in his sleep and occasionally kicking his one leg out. Not sure what else to do, Castiel gently deposited Nyx in the spare bed and tucked her and her stuffed toy under the heavier comforter. She didn’t wake; not when he made sure the pillows surrounded her or when he touched her hair. Castiel hesitated for only a few more moments before he stood and backed away.

Shutting the connecting door tight, he locked it and sat back down to stare at Death and Meg in turn. 

Death wasted no time. “She’s dying. In a way.”

It was said so bluntly that Castiel had no response and as if to accent his point Death waved his sandwich at him. The smell of onions and steak somehow overwhelmed the sulphur and sweat smell of the room. 

"It isn’t your fault or even the fault of the Winchesters. Monsters have always been unpredictable and when they begin to evolve? Well." Death broke off a piece of the sandwich. "They do have the ability to surprise."

Castiel still didn’t answer as he watched Death pop the piece into his mouth and begin to chew, though he squirmed a little when those dark eyes fixed on him with unwavering intensity.

"Out of sheer curiosity, why did you think I had you hide the demon in the first place?"

"A morbid sense of humour. Likely because you were bored."

Death brushed a crumb off of his trousers. “You are trying to be awfully glib when speaking to the one person who could decide whether she lives or dies.”

Castiel looked to the side, jaw clenched and hands in fists. “Then why are you even bothering to ask about that? It was painful and you know it.”

"Self interest. I always find it amusing how your kind and the humans perceive what is meant to happen." He set his sandwich on the paper bag and leaned close to look in Meg’s half-open but catatonic eyes. "This has happened before to her, did you know that? It’s not exactly new, this sort of… sleep. The last one was a product of the Lethe; this is something more earthy, I suppose you could say."

Castiel trembled, about to speak, but Death was already continuing.

"That doesn’t mean too much, all things considering." Putting his hand on the mattress beside Meg’s head, he didn’t touch her but still Castiel had to bite his tongue not to yell at him to get back. "She knew exactly what she had to do. The loyalty of a demon; it isn’t often something you would expect but when demons are loyal they remain so for as long as it is in their natures. Much like angels, I suppose. Monsters on the other hand? Their natures tend to evolve and sometimes that evolution is… shaky at best."

“Did you have a point?” Castiel demanded, exhaustion and pain making his voice low.

“Monsters were created to balance the humans. Humans are, after all, like locust.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before though I don’t agree,” he grumbled sarcastically but Death ignored him.

“And demons balance angels. It is quite entertaining to watch you all.”

Castiel didn’t answer; instead he leaned forward and reached out to take Meg’s hand. Her fingers stayed limp in his for several long minutes, until finally she squeezed back and he felt her dig her nails into his flesh. Death watched while he finished his sandwich and he raised both brows at the way Castiel murmured to her. Finally he cleared his throat and gave the angel an unimpressed look.

“Still? After three years apart, Castiel? Three years spent as either a human or a redeemed angel? You still feel so strongly? As if that night years ago didn’t happen?” he asked. Though he knew Death meant it rhetorically, Castiel looked away from Meg to glare at him.

"You did that. You manipulated me."

"No, I think you’ll find you did that." Death smirked. "The first time you two met, you shifted something. As bad as when you met Dean and Sam Winchester." The smirk turned to near disgust. "Impossible creatures. Here I was going to enjoy a calm existence, doing my work, and you all have been so very, very difficult."

Recovering that part of him that had learned all about fighting back with words, Castiel gave Death as cruel a smile as he could. “Are you just here to talk me to death?”

“Well, considering all the ways you’ve died, Castiel, that would be a first. Hardly original though.” He stood and tapped his fingers on his chin as if debating something. “All the things this demon has done and you still want to save her somehow and I believe she knows that; she’s not in that deep a coma, you know. She’s perfectly aware of us both right now, even when in that hazy world she’s slipped into to heal. Would you bargain with me for her life, or would you let me take her? What if she longs for death, considering the alternative if she doesn’t heal?"

“I want her to live.” Castiel swallowed deeply. A part of him want to plunge ahead, declare he wanted her alive and forget the consequences. But then he looked at her face, at the angel sword, and knew that taking that choice away from her would be no better than three years ago, when he had been so desperate to save her he had been willing to suffer the pain it caused. “But I would do what she asked of me.”

"Good. That is the first step. It would help, I suppose, to tell you that I was never here to Reap your demon in the first place. I was here to see the changes this new type of infection would put into a demon. And if some demons are strong enough to fight back." Ignoring the way Castiel glared at him, Death picked up his black bag and set it on the bed. “You think I was cruel, telling you to do what you did years ago?”

The angel looked away. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Demons and angels. A child of both to suffer such parents. One had known human emotion and frailty and learned to bury it, the other never had been able to experience it. You had to learn to be human, Castiel, otherwise there would be no point. You being human has done you a world of good, I think, as it has every angel. Certainly it humbled you. Your daughter needed more either total, blind devotion because of circumstance or the inability to keep oneself out of trouble.” He walked around and paused. “I’m referring to Meg being the one with the inability to keep herself out of trouble but on second thought it does apply to you as well.”

"If you aren’t here to help me or take Meg, then why are you here?"

"I told you. To see what it is doing. The venom won’t kill her." Death gave him a ghastly grin. "That should please you."

Castiel looked down at Meg. “You’re saying she’ll heal.”

"Maybe. Maybe you should let the demon fight the beast the way she would if she were uncaged."

Castiel glanced back but Death was gone, leaving him alone with Meg. He reached for the angel sword and let the blade rest against his palm as he stared at her. The metal warmed instantly to his touch of Grace. Meg’s eyes had shut finally and she was taking deeper breaths, as if she’d fallen into a deeper finally.

Staring at the wound on her neck, he reached out and ran his hand over her arm. The low hiss of the radiator was sending hotter drafts through the room but he still felt the cold clamminess of her skin. The slow tracks of poison, spreading out to cover just the edge of the wound, were turning black now but seemed sluggish, no longer as pulsing and deadly.

Unable to bear the heat in the room, he walked over to the window and cracked it open to let in a fresh blast of cold air. It barely made a difference in the stifling and foul-smelling room. Castiel turned, coming back to the side of the bed to look down at Meg. The venom’s work had turned her skin a sickly glow, but he thought for the first time he saw a more natural look to her now.

“Meg. What can I do to get you to fight?” he asked as he put the sword back down on the table and pressed his hand to her forehead.

Eyes turning brighter blue, he released a soft push of Grace into her that sent the demon roaring back to life beneath the surface of her skin. She gasped and her eyes flew open to stare into his, more aware than before.

Maybe there was a chance. If only she would actually fight what was trying to change her.

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Castiel pulled her into his arms so that she lay across his lap a little, his arms trapping hers as he raised his legs so she rested between them. Meg twisted weakly against him and made a low moan at the pain it caused. But she seemed more awake than before and he saw her mouth struggling to work. Castiel ran his hands down her arms to cup her by the back of the neck and he brought her closer

“This might hurt,” he whispered against the top of her head and he heard her take a deep breath. She nodded and shifted into his arms.

“Okay.”

The only sound in the room was the low whimper she let escape as he began to gently trickle Grace into her, and Castiel closed his eyes at the agony in her voice. Her nails dug into his arms as she struggled to break free when the angelic light burned too hot in her body, legs kicking uselessly against his. Mouth just touching her forehead, Castiel felt a shadow of her pain when her power slowly began to fight back against the monster venom and Grace that were hurting the demon.

~~

It hadn’t surprised either of the brothers to find that Castiel had put Nyx back with them and they’d been able to figure out what he was doing in that room with the demon. He wanted to be alone with Meg, and, as Sam pointed out, maybe he was managing to heal her. Dean hadn’t been as optimistic but he’d smiled for Nyx’s benefit. He had ultimately resolved himself to being a babysitter when she started following him around and asking thousands of questions about what he was doing. Sam had slyly encouraged her just enough that she hadn’t stopped even when Dean had asked her to give him a break and he’d decided that getting her breakfast was the perfect way to keep her quiet.

Perfect in theory.

Dean spooned a bit of instant oatmeal onto his spoon and made a whirring sound as he pushed it towards Nyx’s small mouth. She glared at him as he ineffectively jabbed the oatmeal towards her, but her lips were sealed and, short of smearing her with oatmeal, he was stuck. Making a face back at her, he made another whirring sound as he tried to push it towards her again.

“Come on, Nyxie, open up for the airplane.”

The way she managed to glare at him with such an adult look was too much like Castiel, he thought, and he made louder airplane noises.

“She’s not a baby, Dean,” Sam said as he came out of the bathroom, still towelling off his hair. 

“Not a baby, Dean,” Nyx echoed.

“She’s going to be a starving baby in a minute,” Dean muttered. “Well, what should we feed the little princess?”

“Are you even hungry, Nyx?” Sam asked and she shook her head. He looked at his brother. “There, problem solved.”

“Fine.” Dean waved the spoon at her. “But don’t you come running to me complaining about how hungry you are later, got it?”

Nyx frowned. “Want momma, don’t want yucky food.”

“She needs to sleep, kid. And this isn’t yucky. I microwaved it myself,” Dean said as he popped the oatmeal into his mouth. The taste was like liquid cardboard. Forced to swallow it, he lost the battle and made a disgusted face as he stuck his tongue out. Nyx was watching him, mimicking his facial gestures as he tried to not give up how he felt eating it. Eventually, he dropped the spoon back into the bowl. “Okay, I don’t blame you. This tastes like sh…” He stopped himself when he noticed she was listening. “Shipworms.”

Sam chuckled at his weak save.

Dean moved from the table and tapped the spoon on the bowl, the thick sludge gooey as he dumped it in the sink. Immediately, Nyx was beside him and tugging at his jeans. Muttering under his breath, he boosted her up onto the counter beside him so he could keep an eye on her as he washed the rest of the oatmeal down the sink. She swung her legs back and forth, anxiously looking at the connecting door.

“She’s sick.”

“Yeah. She’ll be okay though,” Sam said, ruffling her hair as he passed and grabbed his wallet to count out some bills for another food run. “And we can’t stay around that much longer. I’m running out of cash.”

Dean nodded, helped Nyx back down, and then sidled up close to his brother. “You heard anything from in there?”

Pocketing the last of the fifties, Sam shook his head. “Not a thing. Almost afraid to check.”

“All right. We give a few more hours, then we….”

A loud moan from the other room made them both look. Nyx stared at the door and Dean quickly turned on the television. “You stay here, kid. Watch some cartoons and be good. Okay? No moving an inch. You move and you eat oatmeal for the rest of your life.”

She rolled her eyes but snuggled down on the motel bed to watch cartoons, though both brothers could see how mutinous she was feeling. Dean made sure the front door was locked before he followed Sam into the other room. He kept the connecting door cracked open so he could keep an ear out for her but Nyx was already pulling her drawings over so that she could colour. Sam nudged him in the side to get his attention and Dean turned to watch the demon on the bed.

Meg’s arms were bound together and tied to the frame and she was arching her back as she tugged at it. As they watched, she would moan and twitch, her head still lowered as her legs stretched up to go under her. The pose was awkward and her neck jutted to the side, exposing the wound on her neck. The old undershirt and boxers she’d been dressed in were stained dark with old blood and sweat.

“Wonder what her and Cas were getting up to with the bondage, huh?” Dean muttered jokingly and Sam shook his head.

“Looks like she’s in no shape for anything like that. Still smelling that venom in here,” he said. Suddenly her head turned a little towards them as if their voices had woken her up. “Meg?”

“She’s still somewhat coherent,” Castiel said suddenly and they both turned to see him unfolding himself from the armchair behind them. “It comes and goes.”

“What’s with the tie-up, Cas?” Dean eyed the belt that encircled Meg’s wrists.

“She’s been scratching at the wound when unconscious.” Castiel shrugged and moved forward to unbind her arms. “It was easier than letting the wound bleed.” Feeling him lean over her, Meg’s eyes opened and she swallowed heavily. Castiel made a comforting sound and leaned down closer to hear her. “What’s wrong?” 

“Still thirsty.”

Sam went to get her something from the mini-bar, but Castiel shook his head at him. “I don’t think that’s wise. What’s infecting her I think is making her thirsty.”

“For…” Dean left it open-ended.

“Not water,” the angel said morbidly.

Meg groaned and rested her head back down. “Maybe we can change my blood out. I could so use some vampire personal service with the biting and sucking,” she slurred. The random comment meant nothing to either Winchester but Castiel’s jaw tensed a little. Dismissing the strange knot of jealousy that settled in his stomach, he leaned down on the bed to look at the mark. He heard her grumble something before she tucked in closer against his body as if his warmth was what she wanted now. 

"It’s getting worse?" Sam asked.

"Something’s up with it," Dean said as he bent close to look at Meg’s face. "She’s looking a little rough."

Her head turned quickly toward him with her teeth bared as she snarled at him. Dean yelped out a curse and leapt back from the bed. Castiel rolled his eyes as Meg chuckled weakly and let her head rest back against the angel’s arm.

"The infection." Castiel ran his hand over the wound and heard her murmur for him to stop. "It is still there; no longer as uncontrolled but it is changing a little. She’s getting tired from fighting it and using my Grace doesn’t seem to be working as well as it should."

"Does it hurt?" Sam was staring at her now and Meg’s eyes widened so she could focus on him.

"A little."

Castiel brushed his hand over her cheek and sighed. “Come on, you need to rest.”

Meg giggled and they all wondered at the absurd sound coming out of the demon. Standing to the side, Dean kept an eye on the door but he shuddered at the sound anyway. It was so unnatural from Meg.

"Is she high?" he asked when he heard her giggling again as Castiel turned her a little, fingers grazing her sides. 

“The venom seems to have some sort of euphoric side effect before it reaches another peak," Castiel explained as he pulled a sweat-soaked sheet from under Meg. He’d turned the heat down and cranked on the air so that the room was cold, a failed effort to try to dry the constant sheen of sweat on her body. As hot her flesh was, she seemed to be longing for heat and he wasn’t sure if she needed to have her fever kept down or if she needed to be wrapped up.

He felt the demon stretch out and shudder. "Meg, how bad is it getting?"

She stared at him, her face suddenly very serious and grave. Castiel stared back, unable to look away from her black eyes. His concern started to grow with each moment she didn’t say a word, with every second that she just stared at his face.

Then Meg reached out and touched his nose with her finger.

"Boop."

He blinked at her and Dean snorted to hide his chuckle.

Groaning, Meg turned in his arms. “Need to move.”

"No," he murmured. "You’ll hurt yourself."

"Too cold. Too hot." She fidgeted and he watched her body twist as she tried to get her shirt off. Reaching out, he touched her hand and forced her to stop. He wrapped the top sheet around her, and then looked at Dean.

"Give me a moment."

The Winchesters both nodded and turned their backs on him.

Meg groaned and leaned into Castiel as he peeled the undershirt off of her and changed it for a large flannel shirt he’d stolen from Sam. “I’m tired.”

"I only punctured the sores an hour ago. You need to stay awake while it drains again," he warned as he lifted the gauze on her neck completely off. "Can you do that?"

"I need to sleep," she muttered.

"Stay awake. Talk to us."

"Why?"

He hesitated. “Because this is going to hurt worse than before.”

"Than before what?" Looking over his shoulder, Sam eyed the way Castiel was touching the dark red sores on her neck. “Cas, what exactly have you been doing in here?”

“I told you. I’ve been using my Grace to try to help her. It can only work so much though.”

Meg turned over on the bed away from them, fingers opening a little to release the bed sheet. Her eyes closed and she gave a deep sigh before she seemed to fall back into a tense doze.

“Meg?”

“She’s still wanting to sleep, huh?” Dean turned and watched Castiel lay his palm on her forehead.

“She’s cold, but her skin is hot in patches,” the angel said. She groaned and turned her head into the contact, as if Castiel’s touch was soothing her. 

“So she’s turning?” Both brothers watched Castiel draw her lips up to expose her teeth and he checked her pulse before he shook his head.

“Not exactly.” He wiped his hands on the sheet. “From what I understand, Adam didn’t infect her to that point that another soul infested her. The infection…the poison can still kill her. She was fighting, but she’s tired and needs help.”

Dean took a seat on the bed and made a face at the dampness of the sheets. “We can’t stay here forever, Cas. Sooner or later, we have to get back to the bunker or somewhere safer.”

“Dean’s right, Cas. If Adam is dead, then it’s a pretty safe bet that Eve will go on a rampage and we’ll need to be ready for that.” Sam hesitated. “With or without Meg.”

The angel didn’t answer him for a while, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. Eventually, he sighed and shook his head. “I know.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “But we can’t leave her. I can’t.”

“We don’t know how long this could take. And if she loses, Cas, it’s a pretty real possibility we’re going to have to take care of her another way.”

Castiel nodded but his reply was half-hearted. “If we have to.”

“We might. But for the sake of that little girl and you, we should try to do something else,” Sam said, glaring at Dean. His brother sighed. 

“So what do we do? Not really many books on demon holistic care.”

“No, there’s not.” Castiel shifted his weight from foot to foot. “But all we have are old methods and exorcisms.”

“You want to do something to the demon in the meatsuit. Is that even possible with Meg?” Dean stood up and moved to stand in front of the angel. “Why would you even want to?”

“She isn’t her meatsuit, Dean. I never looked on her as a human.” He shook his head. “Whatever happened in the Lethe, bound her to the body once the soul had left. Without her, the body is dead. But the demon needs to fight back, trying to exorcise her may-”

“-force her to fight.” Sam made an odd sound. “Sort of like what we did to Crowley years ago?”

“It doesn’t make the best of plans. But the venom lets a monster’s soul in. It needs to attach to a demon’s or it doesn’t work, I think. The infection however is different.” The angel shrugged.

"Like old medicine. Drawing poison out of the wound," Sam explained to Dean as he ran his hand over his jawline. "It is like exorcising her right?"

“Any exorcism has a way of enraging the demon. It causes their survival instinct to come out, it is why they often heal fast and are able to get away if it never completes.”

“Makes sense. Humans get the same way. Adrenaline, that sort of thing,” Dean agreed.

"It is going to hurt her," Castiel muttered, clearly not like the idea he had spent the better part of the morning puzzling over. "But something has to be done."

“What are we going to do with Nyx, then?” Dean looked pointedly at the connecting door. “Because if this is going to be messy and loud….” With a hesitant look at his brother, who nodded, he nodded back. “Sam and I got this.”

Castiel looked at Dean and Sam. “I need to do this.”

“No.”

“You think I’ll be crippled by human emotion, by empathy? This is necessity and I am an angel. I can do this” His voice was low with anger. “It won’t be easy, I’m sure.”

“You know that things get worse, Cas, when you care about the person you have to hurt.” Dean uneasily looked away from Sam. “You might think you’ll be okay but when she starts to scream or starts to beg… it will be another story. Whatever purification you think can help, to get the poison out, that won’t be easy. Let us do this.”

There was something in the way Castiel hesitated that made Sam give an understanding nod. “You think we won’t stop until she’s dead.”

“It’s crossed my mind.” He ignored Dean’s insulted glare. “Neither of you has much reason to care what happens to her.”

“Things change. She helped us, we’re helping her,” Dean said. “So we’re going to go get some supplies and by the time we get back here, you’ll have a list of what you want us to do and then you’re gone with Nyx until I call you, you got it?”

Castiel met his gaze with his own narrowed look before dropping it away. “Very well but if….”

“Come on, Sam,” Dean said before the angel could finish. “We need some herbs and supplies to get through this if it is anything like Crowley’s mess. We’ll take Nyx with us for now, then Cas gets her full-time.”

Giving his friend a sympathetic smile, Sam followed Dean back into the other room. 

Once the door clicked shut, Castiel’s shoulders slumped and he stared despondently at the floor as he composed himself. It was still hard to feel helpless. But the offer of help from the Winchesters, even if unexpected, had calmed him a little.

Grabbing a pen and notepad from the bed’s nightstand, Castiel took a seat on the floor beside the bed and quickly scribbled out the spells and invocations he could think of. It would force the demon to come back to the front, a way of exposing her by threatening her death and more pain. Essentially creating a fight or flight instinct that would force her to wake up from the effects of the poison.  The fact that he trusted Dean and Sam to stop before any real damage was done was something he clung to.

He made sure not to finish writing the execution spell’s final lines though.

When the incantation was written, he folded it up and put it on the table beside the bed. Castiel ran his hand over the damp bed sheet to brush Meg’s arm with his fingertips. In reaction, her eyes opened a little to stare at him, looking tired but clear. Even though the air conditioning was on high, he could smell the venom and sour sweat lingering on her skin. 

“It still hurts?” he asked and as if to answer she reached up to itch at the mark. “No. Don’t do that.”

“Who-who gets first dibs on killing me? You get to do it?” she croaked as he gently took her hands away from her neck, and he sighed.

“No one is killing you, Meg. Least of all me. Have some faith.”

“Hope and faith are for little girls, Cas. I’m _tired_.”

He used the bed sheet to wipe the sweat off her face. “You can fight. I know you can.”

“Yeah… sure.”

“You know what they are going to do?”

“Same thing I would do,” she laughed, “or not. False exorcism?”

“Something like that. It is just to give you some strength. You need to fight the venom. You aren’t turning but you aren’t healing either.” 

He watched her eyes roll and wondered if she actually did trust the Winchesters to stop. She began shaking and he stood from the bed, ready to do more to help her. His Grace had helped cleanse some of her. The fever wasn’t as strong as before, the pentagrams and wards he’d drawn on her body underneath the shirt actually strengthening the demon as well. He’d never thought he would ever use the symbols to actually keep a demon in and strong. It seemed so… so…

_Wrong_ .

It was still hard to completely forget centuries of training and belief. He had always been ordered to exorcise and banish demons. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, that instinct still sometimes screamed at him to think twice about what he was doing.

He ignored it anyway for what he felt now. Once again he wanted to keep her with him because he simply wanted it to be that way. 

Castiel stayed staring at her, never moving, as she dozed in and out of a fever dream.

When Dean and Sam returned after an hour, Nyx waiting in the next room, he made sure to look long and hard at Meg as if to etch her to memory. Dean patted his shoulder and with a not-too subtle shove directed him towards the door. He closed the door on the hunters and the demon, well aware of the weight of trust he was putting on them, and turned to face the little girl who stared up at him so trustingly.

~

The brothers made sure to wait until they felt the tell-tale rush of Castiel leaving before Sam began drawing wards on the wall. He did it slowly, sketching the chalk lines with careless ease, before he looked around to see Dean crushing the herbs in the small mixing bowl. Dean had been commanding before but now was silent since they had decided to try Castiel’s plan on Meg.

“I don’t like this anymore than you do, Dean,” he said finally and he watched him slam the bowl down.

“No, I don’t think you get me on this, Sammy.” Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Everything we’ve had to do for Meg, with Meg… does it ever strike you as wrong?”

“Because of what she’s done in the past, right?” Sam dusted off his hands and stared at the demon. She had rolled onto her side and was apparently listless, fingers drawing circles on the sheets. “You think Dad would come back to haunt us for helping a demon again?”

“Times change. This world, the world we are in right now? With all these angels, demons, wars in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory? This world is nothing like the one he lived through.” Green eyes suddenly cold, Dean looked at the demon. “She did pretty terrible things.”

“I get it, I do. I mean, when she possessed me, I rode right along side her, felt everything she did to you, to the hunters, to Jo.” Sam fidgeted. “And I also got to feel what it was to actually be a piece of her.”

“Stockholm logic, here, Sam?”

“Not really. I doubt anyone understands Meg, but she’s nothing without a purpose, we both know that.” Sam sat down close to Dean on the dresser and leaned close so they couldn’t be overheard. “Do you remember when Cas brought her back from the Lethe that first time?”

“Vaguely.”

“She begged us to kill her. Threw herself at us even to try to get us to stab her.”

“So that means what?”

“That maybe this world is punishment enough to her. Afterlife means nothing to her, Dean. That’s already been taken away.” Sam cleared his throat. “There’s one other big thing you’re forgetting.”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked at him.

“Bad as she was and still can be, Meg makes a better ally than an enemy. Losing her won’t help Cas or Nyx either. Tough as he is, Cas cares about her, Dean.” Sam sucked in a deep breath. “He loves her, maybe more than we figured.”

“So that means…”

“That she probably thinks you idiots are saps,” Meg said suddenly and they both looked to see her slowly pushing up to sit the bed. Her dark hair hung in clumpy tangles around her face and she sleepily looked at them both.

“You’re awake,” Dean said as he dragged Ruby’s knife against the wood table, etching another mark.

“Never really slept. Sort of coma girl versus non-coma, you know? Feel like I’m getting the worst reception I’ve ever had: I keep fading in and out.” She rubbed at her face, fingers going to the gauze covering her neck.

“Then you know what we’re going to do,” Sam began and she shook her head. “Not really?”

She sat back and her head thudded against the headboard hard. “Look, if you are planning on doing the stabbing thing, make it quick at least.”

Dean eyed her. “You’re awfully positive.”

“Realist, boys.” Dark eyes opening slow, she grinned. “Why do you think that nice big monster was torturing me?”

“He wanted Nyx.”

“That’s part of it.” She shrugged a shoulder and the plaid shirt fell to the side a bit more, exposing skin turning a little blue from the cold. “Why else? Use those itsy bitsy human brains.” With almost vicious delight, she focussed on Dean. “Or past experience.”

“He wanted you weak.”

“Good job, Bingo.” Meg was panting for breath now, as if just the mere act of talking was tiring her. “The other demons that submitted, it would be because of fear, sex, anger or greed. It’s an old technique. Good one too and I figured it out when those shifters started playing with matches. You find a weak point and you rip until your victim comes apart at the seams.”

“So what, yours was Nyx?” Sam shook his head. “Or Cas? That’s why you took it?”

She rolled her eyes and Dean, who had been watching her so closely, saw her frustration.

“It was pride.” He felt her glare almost physically. “You took it because you thought you could. He wanted to break you down.”

“Sometimes you tend to forget that the sins you’re supposed to corrupt people with actually do make you a bit weak.” She arched her back. “That and I couldn’t let angelface show me up.”

There was something flawed in her logic, both brothers knew it and with a subtle glance shared that thought between them.

“So. He’s letting you babysit and try his holistic healing on me, huh?” Her eyes darted between them. “Right?” When neither of them answered she sighed and they watched the way she shuddered. “Let’s get it over with.”

Sam took her hands and held them gently to the side. “We’re not going to exorcise you, Meg.”

“You’re peaches, big boy,” she said dryly. “Just holy water and fire, right?”

“Don’t take it personally,” Dean said as he walked over to the bed and knelt beside her. “If we wanted you dead you already would be dead.”

“That’s so comforting I might puke from your sincerity,” she drawled back. Dean thought he saw a real flicker of fear in her eyes.

“Hold her down,” Sam ordered and Dean took hold of her arms. Meg whimpered as the curve of her neck was exposed.

“You think this will work?”

“Meg’s been fighting it, but she needs the help.”

The younger Winchester heard her teeth starting to chatter. “Meg?”

“Do it. I’m ready.”

“Hope we are,” he whispered before he dripped the holy water into her wound as Dean began to murmur the start of the exorcism. Sam murmured it in reverse at the same time and the conflicting chants began to cause Meg to howl in fury, her eyes black. As if in rhythm with her pain, the lights began to turn on and off as Sam held her legs down, her feet kicking the bed rapidly while both brothers began to work on her. The demon’s body, small as it was, was stronger than them both and as Dean continued to murmur she continued to fight. 

Her body pulled and twisted under their combined weight and Dean pushed his hand against her forehead to keep her head down as he reached the end of the first stanza. Meg’s eyes opened again to fix on his face as her body sagged, the pause giving her relief. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and handed Dean the holy water again.

Dean and Meg stared at one another, their gazes connecting and holding for the longest moment. Eventually, he found himself putting his hand over her eyes to keep from having to look anymore. With Sam now speaking the first part of the incantation again, overlapping his brother’s voice, Dean felt Meg’s body coil as if ready to spring. Strong as he was, already Dean’s muscles were aching from the effort of keeping her down.

Slowly, the fight in her changed from pain to a desperate attempt for survival, adrenaline making her even stronger. Both brothers closed their eyes as the inhuman roar of the demon filled the room.  What she was now fought to save itself from death or from exorcism to a Pit it hated with all its being.

~~

Knowing he  couldn’t keep her close to the motel where she would hear Meg’s cries, Castiel took Nyx to the closest park. After a very careful study, to be sure there were no demons, angels, or monsters, he sat her down across from him at a picnic table. Nyx hadn’t said very much since they had left, just held his hand very tight and looked up to him as if she expected him to give her answers. Now, sitting across from him, she looked too serious for such a small child and he nervously watched her as she stared at him. There were children screaming and playing, despite the way the late morning was turning cold. Castiel smiled and tried to look calm.

“You can play with them,” he offered.

“Don’t wanna.” She looked nervously at the children as they ran around the playground near her. “I wanna go.”

“We need to stay here for a little bit.” He clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Dean and Sam are going to help your mother.”

“She’s sick.”

“Yes.”

Nyx’s blue eyes stared at his larger hands as if they were confusing her just by being there. Grumpily, she wiped at her face. “The bad monsters.”

“Yes.” Castiel gave her a small smile. “She’ll get better, I promise.”

“’Cause Dean and Sam are gonna save her.” She seemed to accept that when Castiel hesitantly nodded. “I wanna go home. I miss Aunt Linda and Kevin.” She drew a line in on the wood. “But Dean says Aunt Linda is in Heaven.”

Castiel swallowed and had no better answer than a simple, “Yes.”

She sighed. “Will mommy go there?”

“No.”

Her eyes darted up. “’Cause she’s diff’ent.”

“Yes.” The strange seriousness on her face intensified and Castiel watched her look away. “Because she’s not going to die, Nyx.”

“But mud monkeys get to go. Not fair.”

The name made him reach out and tap the table. “Nyx, what did you just call them?” When she didn’t answer and actually looked like she was scared he was going to yell at her, Castiel touched her hand and waited for her to look at him. “Nyx. How did you know what that meant?”

“Dean says they bad words,” Nyx mumbled.

“He’s right.  Another angel used to say call them that. It wasn’t very nice,” Castiel said, remembering Uriel’s fondness for putting down the humans. “We don’t use words like those when talking about people, okay?”

Nyx nodded. “Okay. Angels are mean?”

He debated on lying but he somehow figured she would know if he did. “Some.”

“Not Marv. He liked monkeys. Liked me.” She licked her lips and her childish voice became almost sweet. “He’s gonna come back.”

“No, Nyx. He- he died. At the warehouse.”

Rather than give him the big, teary eyes she had used when mentioning Linda, she shook her head. “That’s silly. He’s not dead. He talks to me. Like my friends.”

It wasn’t the first time he had thought she was talking about angels. Castiel ducked his head a little so he could look her in the eye. “Nyx? Do you hear angels in Heaven?”

As if he was stupid, she sighed heavily and shook her head. “No, silly.”

“No.” He smiled a little and straightened up. “No, of course not. That is silly.”

“I hear my friends. They helped.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded firmly as if that made all the sense in the world. “Said they were angels.”

“Nyx, what angels?” When she shrugged and looked at the other children racing nearby, he started to ask another question when he felt the phone Sam had given him buzzing in his pocket. Cursing the bad timing, he looked away from the little girl to answer. “Dean?”

“We need a few more hours,” Dean’s voice was curt. “Did you take her for ice cream yet?”

“It’s ten in the morning and she shouldn’t have that much sugar,” Castiel said, distracted by the question. “We’ve haven’t been gone that long. How is Meg? I…” He nervously looked at Nyx. “We left at eight. It has been two hours.”

“And Crowley barely weakened after how many? If you bring her back here, she has to stay in the other room, we clear?”

“Dean?” Noticing Nyx’s curious gaze, he turned on the side and lowered his voice. “What is going on?”

He heard Sam muttering in Latin and a more guttural moaning.

“She’s fighting, Cas.” Dean sounded tired already. “Don’t ask me how but… but she’s fighting it again. After this next session, we’re going to have to let her do the rest of the work. Give us till the afternoon. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

~~

_Two days later…_

There was nothing for the monsters, pure and mixed blood alike, to do after they had returned to Eve and found her lying in a pool of black blood in the forest clearing. With careful reverence, not wanting to hurt her, they had moved her to an abandoned cabin and set about watching over her for the slightest hope that maybe she would reawaken.

Something had happened to the Mother. To what the monsters knew, she had only been pulling more monsters out of Purgatory, continuing her attempts to nurture their souls by attaching them to the demons she had stolen from Hell and the humans who ventured too close. But since her collapse, all the plans had stopped and so many of her new children lay dying in the forest, unable to finish their strange rebirth.

The monsters themselves didn’t know what to do to help her. The first blast of her pain and power had decimated the surrounding clearing and it had attracted some humans that the vampires had seen to. But besides that power, there was nothing to betray that she still remained in that body that was slowly decaying.

A werewolf had been standing watch when he saw her hands twitch and lift as if to grasp the air. Her eyes opened to reveal glowing red and orange orbs that focussed on the ceiling. The werewolf opened the door to the other guards and the entire group of monsters, for once working together, piled in to see if there was more to hope for. They had felt her pain and come back to protect her. What instinct they ran with now screamed that they  _needed_ her.

As if in a dreamy state, Eve sighed and rose from the cot. “Children.” She reached out and touched the first werewolf’s head and he sighed.

“We were worried, Mother.”

“Don’t be. I’m still here to watch over you all.” Her face turned ugly though as she scowled. “I needed rest. Who knows what happened to the Father, to my other half?”

A vampire winced. “He was killed and we don’t know how.”

Eve growled and moved faster than he could dodge, hand lifting him close to her.  “What do you mean?”

“He had captured the angel and the demon, but the Winchesters saved them with some help. He was lost in the fire,” he choked out and she dropped him to the ground.

“He was more than some human, fire should not have killed him. Only an angel or a God could have killed him.” She reached up to pat her scabbing skin. “They are going to pay for this. It is always those damn Winchesters.”

“The rumour is that the Winchesters left Montana. The angel and demon with them.”

“Where would they go?”

The werewolf behind her shifted. “They are seen in Kansas quite a lot.”

Resisting the urge to howl her anger again and the desire to discipline them all, she turned away. “Then send out word. I am wanting my children to prove their devotion.”

She winced as the pain inside of her twisted further, the hollow ache even stronger than before, and she lifted a shaky hand to her head. The monsters all nervously looked at each other, too terrified to say a word against her. She should have been weak but instead they could sense the anger inside of her. Broiling through her until they all felt touched by her power.

“I don’t want the Winchesters yet. First I want the angel and the demon, I want their child, so that they pay for what was done to _him_.” 

~~

Meg lay in a semi-aware state, her power caught between the snarl of thorns and the twist of something poisonous. Whatever power it was that dragged at her body, pulled at her with a growing intensity, roiled and turned. But the touch of Holy Water and Grace, the threat of exorcism, had been just enough to boil the darkness in her to a fury. Now the demon was stronger than a monster’s venom, and eventually, even in her dreaming state, she knew that she would survive.

She was vaguely aware of someone moving her, of the pain of something that felt like torture, interspersed with moments of merciful peace. Instructions, telling her to stay calm, to let them do their work, only sent her deeper under. She needed rest, needed to be left alone, Meg was sure she even told them that. She was kept  bound –she could feel the ropes—,and given something that made her sleep.

Through all of it, Meg could feel her demonic power fighting through the meatsuit and her soul,  pushing away the parasitic venom that had tried to attach itself to her.

Whatever moved in her veins left slowly, like a poison being lanced repeatedly from a wound. The demon in her coiled and sprang, devoured the darkness furiously.

Then it was only her within the husk of her stolen, exhausted body. Nothing else lingered with her but a leftover ache from poison and torture.

~~

It was a week before Meg finally woke from the fog she’d been plunged beneath; she lay alone in a room that was cold enough that she tried to burrow back under the thin sheet to feel warm again. It was so hard to wake up, she thought, when she just wanted to try to get real sleep that was undisturbed by terrifying dreams of a monster devouring her or Alastair’s tortures.

But she forced herself to turn a little on the cot, the room swimming before her eyes when she managed to open them. The smell of sweat and incense around her was so strong that she actually felt ready to vomit from it. The light from the single bulb overhead actually made her eyes ache and the pain in her head increased. 

Moaning, she turned onto her stomach and arched her back to stretch out her sore muscles. She tried to dig her fingers into the mattress but found her hands duct-taped into a pair of oven mittens. Lifting her hands to her face, she stared at them, confused, until it became clear what why it had been done. Her neck itched badly and her fingernails would have damaged the gouge even more.

“Boys are getting inventive,” she muttered before reaching down and biting at the tape. The tape ripped at her skin but her clammy hands slipped free, pale indentures on her wrists from the long wear. As tired as she felt, her body and insides nearly felt normal again. Meg lifted her hands to her face, poking at the skin and brushing her teeth to be sure there were no fangs or leaking venom coming from her mouth.

When she lifted her hands towards her nose, she almost choked at the smell.

It was a demonic sulphur smell mixed with the algae overtones and it caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Meg felt disgusting from head to toe; the long shirt she wore clung to her, sticky from too much sweat, and her hair hung in tangled clumps too thick to get her fingers through.

She had never let herself go this far, not since the Lethe anyway. The uncomfortable memory made her take in a deep breath before she slipped from the bed to stand on shaky feet. She regretted it instantly as the entire room spun around her until the dizziness was too much to take.

Meg trembled as she dropped back onto the bed and waited for her vision to clear before she tried to move again. Rolling back to the side, the feel of something sticky on her stomach made her part the shirt enough to see wards painted on her body. Whatever they were for, she didn’t know and didn’t care, but they did burn a little.

Groaning, she put her head between her knees and tried to take deeper breaths. She scraped her nails up to her arms to her face, and dug them in to test that her skin was real. The pain bit into her and she sighed, relieved to feel that much again.    

“Only me in here again,” she said as she stared at the floor. For some reason, the past weeks reminded her of Cheboygan girl, long since gone after they had died together on the pavement years ago. “Bet that little girl would be glad she left when she did. Never thought I’d envy a soul for getting to the other side.”

Sitting on the bed, Meg remembered her dreams. Of Purgatory and Hell, of the Lethe, of Castiel and of Nyx, of the Winchesters and the demons. All of it was jumbled together and she was sure she had felt the burn of Grace beside her at one point. It was hard to tell in the way of dreams what had been reality though.

It wasn’t hard to recognize where she was when she managed to stand up finally. The bunker’s old demon cell, with its marks scratched from floor to ceiling and designed to keep a demon in, was a strangely familiar place to wake up in. The wide-open door was new though; usually they had locked that with iron bars.

When she popped her head out into the hallway, she spotted a cot pulled up outside the cell, looking slept in with blankets and surrounded by small piles of books. Someone had been watching her and she had a good idea who it was.

Yawning, Meg stretched her arms over her head and grunted when the muscles popped in her back. When she raked her fingers through her hair and felt the gross oily mess it was, when she smelt the algae and sulphur odours rising like fumes from her body, Meg decided that she needed to do something first before facing the angel or the Winchesters. 

~~

“We’re going have to make some sort of plan, Cas. Sooner or later, all of this is going to come to a head and we need to be prepared,” Dean said as he cracked open a new bottle of water and swigged it. He made a face at the bland taste before taking a seat opposite the angel at the table. Castiel, like he had for a few days now, made a noncommittal sound and stared at the door that led to the stairwell. Dean watched him while waiting for an answer, before he flicked the bottle cap at the angel to startle him.

“Cas? You in there?”

“Of course I am. If I left the vessel you would know,” Castiel said curtly without turning his head.

“Helpful.” Dean took another drink and looked away to the other side of the common room. “What do you think, Sam?”

“We’re not going to be able to do a lot until she wakes up,” Sam answered from where he was trying to nap on the armchair, uncomfortably squished in since the couch was occupied. Castiel sighed and gestured at his mouth for them both to be quiet, giving a meaningful look at where Nyx was sleeping in a pile of blankets on the couch.

“Things were easier before we started running with kids,” Dean muttered half-heartedly as he shook out the morning edition and set it down on the table between them. He started circling any story that seemed remotely suspicious. After a case two days ago where three ghosts were still re-enacting their last fight in a haunted house several miles outside of Kansas City, he was eager for more work.

“I’m going to check on Meg,” Castiel said finally, when watching Dean sullenly drink and read the newspaper became too boring.

“Make sure she’s not tearing it apart, okay? She’s not moved in a few hours now but I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“I’ll be sure of that.” Castiel picked up a bag of incense, knowing it might be necessary to cover the sulphur smell that had become nearly overpowering over the past few days since they had moved back to the bunker.

He had held Meg during the move, carefully keeping her still though it hadn’t been necessary with her lying so frigid. She had slept through the trip back to Kansas, fading in and out of the venom’s coma, and since coming back to the bunker she seemed to be stronger than before, sleeping more deeply but with fewer fever dreams. He knew she was going to wake sooner or later and wanted to be there in case she panicked or did something they would all regret.

Castiel just wasn’t sure who would be waiting for him when she did wake up.

~

Dean watched Castiel go down the hall and waited for the doors to close behind him before he dug into his back pocket for his phone. With one eye on Sam and Nyx, he dialled a number and began to impatiently drum his fingers on the table. When a surly, gruff voice answered him, Dean sighed in relief.

“Benny. This a good time to talk?”

“Good as any, brother. I’m just having a midnight snack.”

“It’s nine in the morning,” he pointed out and heard the vampire click his tongue.

“I am well aware of the time, Dean. What would you like?”

“You said you’d get back to me if you heard anything. Been a while.” He jammed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he reached for his water again. “So what’s the word?”

“Well now, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Dean froze at the weary tone Benny was using. “Good news first. Had my share of bad lately,” he said, aware that Sam was now staring at him.

“Monsters have no idea where you all got to. Even the ones south of Montana line are in the dark.”

“That’s good. So what’s the bad news?” Dean asked, already bracing himself.

“They’re still looking.”

“So that’s normal, Benny,” he said, giving a small laugh. “I mean really.”

“Wasn’t finished.” He heard a low slurping sound and then Benny’s satisfied smack of his lips. “Eve’s given out orders. We all felt them. She wants the angel in the trench coat and the demon called Meg. You two are side-dishes, apparently. Momma’s out for blood again.”

“They don’t know where we are though.”

“Not yet, but you’ll need to throw them off with some hefty distraction. That place of yours is safe but if Eve is on your tail, you need to set her hunting dogs on a different trail for a while so you can figure out how to take care of her. If you can, I’d try to throw them off and fast.”

Dean nodded as if Benny could see him. “They…”

“There’s just some moving out now. Nest I’ve joined up with is mostly younglings and they just heard the stories from another nest. I’ll see if I can create some—” He paused and Dean could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Havoc.”

“Appreciate it, Benny, you know I do,” Dean said. “You stay safe, okay?”

“Always do. Say hi to little brother for me.”

Dean sighed as he hung up the phone and turned in his seat to look at Sam. “We got problems.”

Getting up from the armchair, Sam took the chair Castiel had left and plunked down closer to Dean. “That’s different from when?”

“They’re going to be tracking Meg and Cas,” Dean explained. “Probably us and Nyx too.”

“How?”

“Got me. But those monsters can get smart and Adam found Meg and Cas through scents and demon deals, I bet. It’s possible they can smell them out.”

“Smell them out?”

“Meg smelled to high-heaven and you can bet it was something from Adam and Eve, not her own demon stuff,” he pointed out. Sam nodded.

“So we mask it or they go for a trip out of town, lead them away,” he said.

“With or without Nyx?” Dean lowered his voice as they both looked at where Nyx was waking up. She was already talking to herself, petting her stuffed unicorn and telling him to play nice. “We can’t keep her trapped in here, Sam.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” his brother answered and Dean had to admit that was true. No matter how many times they had taken her out for fresh air, they had never seen her actually interested in playing with other children. She was more content to play alone and Dean and Sam sympathized with her with uncomfortable nostalgia. There had been too much to worry about though and neither had thought much of it until now.

“Sooner or later, Cas is going to have to make a choi…” Dean started just before they heard a loud thunk overhead. Without waiting for Sam to say anything, he stood up and started for the stairs. He wondered what Castiel had managed to get up to already and what he could have found.

~~

  Taking a deep breath, Castiel closed the door behind himself and forced himself to walk slowly. The hallway seemed long and lonely as he made his way down to the holding cell. Knowing he could handle whatever Meg might turn into had been the only reason why they hadn’t locked the door and some strange guilt had made him insist on trusting Meg to get better. He hadn’t wanted her to feel trapped.  Dean hadn’t argued for once but Castiel was aware he would owe his friend a large favour for that. 

The sight of the cot he had made his home for several nights made Castiel almost long for the ability to sleep again. At least it would have helped pass the time. Putting the books back into their bag, he fixed the cot with meticulous care as if to distract himself. He wanted to zap into the room and be done with it, like he had every other time, but this time he moved slower. Meg was still there, he was sure. She should be too weak to move far.

When he finally opened the cell door, he found himself staring at an empty cot. The sheets, still stained with venom sweat and stinking of algae and sulphur, were in a pile near the door, while the few candles he’d lit to try to erase the stench were tossed in the garbage can. The smell was no longer as overpowering and there no longer any sense of a spell or magic swimming through the room. Castiel’s fingers instantly felt numb and he nearly dropped the bag of books as he stared at the bed, wondering if maybe something had happened to her.

_Where could she have gone?_

There was a sound of something dropping in the bathroom overhead, and without another thought he zapped to the hallway outside it, nervously staring at the door. He tightened his fingers around the book bag and waited.

The door swung open and he watched as Meg stumbled out in a blast of clean-smelling steam. 

“Meg?”

She jumped and pivoted to look at him. Dropping the towel she held, she tugged at the bottom of the massive shirt he had dressed her in days ago. The stained flannel clung to her wet skin.

“Hi,” Meg said, plucking the soaked shirt away from her stomach.

“You… you’re up.” He wasn’t sure what else to say but she nodded, going around him towards the spare room where Nyx had been sleeping weeks before. His old room. Castiel followed her closely and closed the door behind himself.

“My back was killing me and I guess I felt ready to move. Can’t sleep forever.” Her hand went to her head as she approached the mirror. Castiel set the bag he’d been carrying down on the dresser and quickly found Meg a pair of old sweatpants and an undershirt he had kept from when he was human. He set the clothes before her and then looked away from the reflection they both made in the mirror.

“That’s good,” he said lamely, not sure what else to say to her now. A thousand words of what he could say came to his lips but all he could think about was that she was standing, mostly healed in front of him, as if she survived torture and monster’s venom every day and it was nothing to her. It was frustrating and yet something that made him relieved at the same time. Something that exhilarated him that she now seemed to be recovered.

Meg tried hard not to notice as he fixed things around the room, keeping his back turned to her while she eased into the oversized clothing. She caught a glimpse of her reflection again after she pulled the undershirt over her head. There were still bruises on her face and she still felt too sluggish to bother to heal them. Pulling a face at her own reflection, she watched Castiel fidget as if he was itching to do something more than clean.

It was exhausting just watching him.

“How long was I out for?” she asked over her shoulder as she moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser. Castiel looked up at the calendar on the wall.

“Nearly a week. We moved to avoid Eve. It is safe here.”

“We’re in the bunker.”

Castiel nodded, watching as she began to squeeze the water out of her hair, the droplets soaking the undershirt at the collar and over her breasts. “We came back several days ago,” he explained. “I’m glad it didn’t frighten you, being here.”

“Not hard to guess. I’m a smart cookie even after my noodle was a bit fried.”

She said it so half-heartedly, without any real interest, that Castiel debated on asking how she really felt. But he heard a door opening down the hall and, with one eye on Meg, he quickly went to check to see who was there.

“Cas? Need some salt or an exorcism?” Dean’s voice carried and Castiel rolled his eyes, spotting the hunter at the end of the hall.

"She’s in here. We’re fine," he called back and waited until he heard the door slam shut again before he closed his own door. He turned back to see Meg studying her reflection again, poking at her neck gingerly. “Meg, how do you feel?”

She tossed her damp hair over a shoulder and reached up to pull off the wet gauze clinging to her throat. The skin beneath was pink and new, still scarring. Meg didn’t bother to look at him as she spoke, “We’re probably going to talk this to death, huh? Look, I’m up. I’m still me. I’m not chewing on your throat, so I’d say we’re good.”

The testy way she spoke, all acid and sarcasm, made him smile a little indulgently because that was the Meg he knew. He made sure to look stoic when she looked up at him again.

“I was worried about you,” he admitted.

“You’re always worried about me.” Yawning, Meg rubbed at her face and passed him to toss the stained shirt in the garbage pail. “The Winchesters didn’t do that much damage I think.”

She turned sidelong to him and gestured at her own body. “See? Nearly normal demon in all her beauty.”

“Yes, I see,” Castiel answered with such sincerity that she was thrown by it. She opened her mouth to making a cutting comment and then closed it quickly, brow wrinkled in confusion before she snorted and rolled her eyes at him. Castiel watched her shuffle by him, still poking at her scarred neck, before he cleared his throat. “Meg, I…”

“So we are still going to do the whole ‘you ask me how I feel and I keep saying I’m fine and how angels don’t worry over demons’ routine. The usual rhetoric that will go on and on before you finally believe me, right?” Meg asked abruptly as if to stop him.

When she turned Castiel was standing in front of her, so close that she could feel the brush of his coat against the back of her hands. Moving slowly, he reached out and touched her like he would something already broken. The gentleness felt strange after spending days dreaming of pain and she tried not to flinch when he brushed the bruise on her cheek.

His touch growing firmer, Castiel cradled her face with his hand as he took in the damage. “Some bruises are taking longer to heal. How bad is it?”

“I’m fine.” Meg felt his thumb caress over her cheekbone. Despite the exhausting way they’d gone out of their way to keep distance between them, his touch felt good. Restorative even, and she knew she was reacting to his Grace. Before she could stop himself, her eyes closed and her cheek pressed into his hand. Castiel’s fingers pressed harder and then stopped, as if he thought he had hurt her.

“Meg, I still—” He stopped himself. “I was worried. Over you.”

“I’m fine, Cas.” Her eyes opened to see him so close that she could see his eyelashes and how dark his eyes suddenly seemed. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her breathing deepened, his own soon mirroring hers.

The thumb brushing over her cheekbone pressed down a little again and the bruise healed itself. Each brush of his Grace over her darkness no longer agitated it. Instead, she felt as if her power was greedily siphoning off of his own, and the sensation was forcing her to sway on her feet at its headiness.

His eyes slowly swept over her face. “I’m sorry you went through that. All of that.”

“I’m used to far worse, remember?” she tried. “Done far worse, that’s for sure.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it happening to you now,” Castiel said without moving his hand from her face. “If Metatron hadn’t killed Adam, I would have.”

Knowing she should pull away, Meg reached up to touch his wrist. But under the feel of his skin she could feel the life and Grace pulsing through him, prickling at her skin, and when he leaned closer he brought with him a smell. The sharp and clean odour of an angel. It reminded her of another time, in another old building, when she had tasted that cleanliness for the first time in centuries. He had tasted of something so clean and intoxicating, a taste stronger than bleach and more refreshing than water. 

But the memory was faded now, marred by the lingering foulness of  Adam’s vile tongue as if he’d imprinted on her. Now she thought she could still taste the torture, the blood and venom, and it was the sort of thing she hated. Being reminded of her own weakness and how close she had come to cracking under the hand of a monster was something that she saw as beneath a demon.

With her hand still on his wrist, she looked up into his eyes and took in a deep, slow breath that he mimicked.

It was so easy to want to remember something else other than what she had suffered.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Those blue eyes widened in surprise at the way she had blurted that out. “What? ”

“I want you to kiss me. I need to feel… cleaner. You’re a sure bet.”

“We talked about keeping our distance from each other.” He looked at her almost warily. “I fail to see how that helps you. Are you feverish?”

“Well, on one hand, a kiss for a thank you is better than a handshake.” She eyed him. "But on the other?” Meg hesitated, trying to think of an analogy he would understand. “Have you ever been in a hot room for too long? You feel like you’re being suffocated, and then someone cracks open a window. You feel like you can breathe again. Somehow you can taste the cool air; you feel it and it feels good."

His breathing deepened a bit more and he fidgeted again, looking away.

But she saw his jaw clench and his eyes close a little.

“You _do_ know what I’m talking about, Castiel,” she muttered, her voice rough. She shrugged when he stubbornly kept his head turned away from her. "Forget it. It was dumb talk, making a bad joke like that."

Before she could move far, he took hold of her arm and pulled her back. His fingers touched the smear of soap that stained her skin close to her hairline and brushed it away, before his hand slowly slid down to her neck. Meg jutted her chin up a little, as if challenging him, and his eyes lifted from her mouth to look into hers. At her arched eyebrow, the hand on her neck slowly moved to cup her by the back of her head.

Murmuring under his breath that this solved nothing, he dipped his head and kissed her. Nowhere close to how fiercely it could have been and often  _had_ been between them before. 

Now it was tentative and almost chaste, a simple press of his lips against hers.

She stood still, letting the familiar taste and touch swamp her senses as his Grace moved over her. It didn’t have the same bite and intensity as she expected. It was easier just to accept that gentle pressure of his lips and wait until he moved back like he would.  It would have been easier to just let it stay at a virtuous kiss.

Easier until she remembered those long nights spent in the safe-house, remembered how she had come to know him better than any of her past lovers. Remembered how simple touches on his shoulder blades, where his wings might be, would have him shuddering and moaning; how tugging on his hair made him almost purr like a cat. As she remembered those nights, the memories brought strange rushes of desire through her she’d thought she was no longer capable of. Not just desire for sex but for something more that she had felt once. Something she had forgotten until all the pressure and exhaustion of the past weeks had finally broken her resolve.

This kiss may have been the worst thing she had half-jokingly suggested in a long time. That Castiel had taken her glib attitude seriously was something she should have expected.

_Stupid_ , Meg thought to herself before sighing as he eased the pressure a little. Apparently her angel addiction wasn’t over yet.

Groaning in defeat, she lifted up on her toes and opened her mouth to touch his tongue with hers.

Castiel moaned in surprise, and when she opened her eyes she saw that he was staring at her. His lips parted a little, his tongue tentatively touching hers, and she closed her eyes when she felt his fingers going up into her hair and tugging. The waft of his breath against her cheek was warm and as clean as his taste, and Meg held onto his arms when he turned her around to press her into the space beside the dresser. Her body tucked up into his as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and uttered a soft moan. His tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the kiss when she returned the caress.

His mouth moved from hers just a little to whisper her name and then he was kissing her again, a hand dropping to cup her breast and she rocked her hips up into his. Every part of her forgot the nature of her injury, of why she had put the distance between them, as she felt a sudden ache for simply  _more._ There was another whisper of her name before Castiel’s head tilted the other way, the kiss resuming with more force, and then she was forgetting how anything else had felt in comparison.

_So clean…_

Meg’s head felt full of a pleasant haze at the familiarity of his kiss, at the way even this touch cleansed her free of Adam. For the first time in three years she felt so strong a bolt of desire that she wasn’t sure what to do about it. All of her, inside and out, was wanting the one creature she’d kept at a distance. Not even that time in the demon cell, when more than few cruel things were done between them, had felt like this. That had been angry, a way of trying and failing to prove a point.

Now she wanted something far more.

His breath trembling against her lips, Castiel broke the kiss and lowered his head to graze her neck with his teeth. His hands slid over her body and beneath the undershirt, touching cooler skin so gently that she felt goosebumps start to prickle. Meg moaned, arching a little when he sucked a small mark to the surface of her skin. Turning her head, she nipped at his earlobe and ran her fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and causing him to groan.

A loud clatter outside the room made him lean back from her slowly, his glazed blue eyes taking in her swollen mouth and mussed curls. His own hair was on all ends and his shirt was rumpled from where she’d clutched it. Meg swayed on her feet, fingers still buried in his dark hair, and when she pressed into him Castiel nipped at her lower lip as if he couldn’t resist. She returned the bite and he sighed against her cheek when she let his lip go. Her head made a heavy thud as she rested back against the wall. He stared at her wide-eyed, licking his lower lip to soothe the bite she’d left.

“They’re coming in,” he whispered. “Dean and Sam.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were almost black with desire and each breath was shaky. “Rain check then.”

He tilted his head at her, not caring that he still cupped her breast, and his mouth lowered a little again. “What are you saying?”

“That maybe we should try to end the restraining order.” She wanted to squirm under the look he gave her but she didn’t let him go. “Or am I off base with that and I was the only one here for what just happened?”

He swallowed nervously. “We need to talk. Not just this, no matter how much I would like that. But we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” she whispered again and he stepped back just as Dean came in the room. “We do.”

When Meg managed to look away from Castiel, Dean was staring at her as if she’d grown a few extra heads. “You’re up.”

She gestured at herself like she had with Cas. “Apparently.”

Dean tipped his head a bit and squinted at her. “You’re still looking feverish.”

“ I bet I do.” She grinned lewdly and reached up to fix the way the undershirt shirt had ridden up over her stomach. Castiel made sure not to react though his eyes darted to her face. She winked at him and he looked away, though this time there was a slight smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“So the monster thing is gone?” Dean asked.

She shrugged. “Mostly gone. Funny, I barely feel it.” She flicked her fingers out and looked at her palms. “I don’t feel numb either.”

Dean glanced at the angel. “Cas?”

“She’s fine. Everything about her is how she was weeks ago,” the angel said and he went a bit red when he realized what he implied. But Dean only shrugged, not catching the inference.  Castiel cleared his throat and repeated, “She’s fine.”

“She’s also so thrilled to be talked about like she isn’t here,” the demon muttered under her breath. Dean rolled his eyes at Castiel before calling out over his shoulder,

“Sam?”

Coming in just as carefully as Dean had, Sam was holding Nyx’s hand. The little girl looked nervous as she followed him, chewing on her fingertip nervously. Moving to one side, Castiel gave her a smile but her eyes were solely on Meg.

“Cas, we have to talk. Benny called and…” Dean stared at Meg, noticing how interested she was, and then grabbed the angel by the arm to pull him to the side. Suddenly tired of their usual treatment, Meg watched the brothers and the angel talk. She debated on going back for another shower, for the sake of passing the time. Considering how her body still ached a little, this time from Castiel’s touch, she nearly thought about taking a long, cold shower this time.

A small hand tugging on hers snapped her back to the present. Nyx stood at her side, eyes wide and seeming to take everything in as she stared at her mother.

Meg stared back.

“Better?” her daughter asked, her voice tiny and afraid. It was hard to know what to do, when Nyx could clearly see beneath the face that Meg wore and would know if she was lying.

“Better.” Ignoring the way Castiel and the Winchesters were beginning to argue, Meg knelt down in front of Nyx. The girl’s blue eyes were almost bright with love and fear, and she seemed ready to leap into her arms. “Did you really go into the fire and save Castiel?”

Nyx nodded, lower lip trembling.

Meg grinned. “That’s my girl. We always have to rescue the big dumb angel, don’t we?”

For a second Nyx stared at her, and then with a delighted giggle she launched herself at Meg. The demon felt how warm she was as she wrapped herself into Meg’s arms and she sighed, hugging the child back. It felt just as rejuvenating touching Nyx as it had been kissing Castiel, and she felt Nyx’s hand touch the scar tissue on her neck. The warmth of her small hand actually seemed to ease the ache in the healed mark and Meg made a sound, trying to pull back but Nyx held on until the heat was gone.

It didn’t seem to occur to Nyx what she had done to try to heal her mother. Her fingers twisted in Meg’s dark hair and played with it as Meg stared at her curiously. Blushing red, Nyx began to babble to her about how much leftover Halloween candy Dean had let her eat, about how they let her stay up late while Meg was sick, and how Castiel had taught her about something called the Milky Way. How he’d let her stay with him to watch over her.

Meg decided that the brothers putting Nyx on a sugar high or how Castiel was going to spoil her was not something she was going to think about right now. The serious side to Nyx was gone and that happy child was back, talking a mile a minute and trying to tell her everything she could as fast as she could though her words started to run together.

Castiel walked away from the Winchesters and Meg noticed his agitation. He took in several deep breaths and then spun on his heel, pacing the other way.

“Mind slowing down?” the demon asked. Nyx looked up at Castiel as well. “I’m still a bit dizzy.”

He didn’t.  “They want us all to split up. Nyx stays with them, and we go out of town for a week. The monsters are looking for you and I specifically.”

“That sounds….”

“It makes sense,” Dean argued defensively from the doorway. “Eve is going to be making a play soon, Azazel is still looking for you, Meg, and they will know Nyx is around you. The monsters that escaped likely know how to track you and Eve is a hell of a lot stronger than any monster you’ve come up against. She’ll find you and she won’t play any nicer than that Adam monster.”

Castiel opened his mouth to argue but Meg shrugged and stood up, patting Nyx’s head. “It makes sense.”

“Wait, hold on. You agree with me? You?” Dean obnoxiously reached out to her face. “You have to be feverish. Let me feel.”

“Screw off.” Meg batted his hand away. “I’m not strong enough; it’s obvious that I’m still ready to crash for a bit. They had us long enough and you can’t tell me those things aren’t smart enough to think up some way to track me. Castiel too.”

The angel looked away.

“So you go undercover, so to speak.” Dean made a face. “Sam drove your car back here, so you can take that and get out of town. Lead them in a big circle and wait them out, confuse them. Then Cas brings you back here.” He looked at the angel again. “Cas? Input?”

“This is not what I would do. I think we should stay together.”

Dean grabbed his arm to keep him from pacing again. “I get that, but she’s not one hundred percent, Cas. We can protect Nyx and you can keep watch over Meg.” The suspicious look he was given he ignored. “So what can you do to help, Castiel?”

The full use of his name made Castiel glare all the harder. “Physical manifestation and pattern loop. Multiple versions of myself with my scent and Meg’s to lead them astray.”

“Wait, angels give off scents?” Sam asked.

Meg nodded. “Why is that a shock?”

“Nevermind on how you know that, Meg.” Dean looked down at Nyx. “How about you stay with us? All the candy you can eat,” he tempted her.

She looked so ready to argue that Meg touched her head again. Obediently, Nyx simply hugged Meg’s leg.

“Fine. We get my car and we can go our separate ways, again,” Meg said and she leaned forward to try to seem menacing again. “But if anything happens to her, I gut you, got it?”

Both brothers looked annoyed. “Nice to have you back, Meg,” Dean drawled.

“I bet it is.”  

~~

The Winchesters let Meg rest for several days before they began packing up her car for her. The demon spent most of her time moving around the bunker, trying to regain the full use of her body before she left, and Nyx stayed with her whenever she could. For once Meg hadn’t commented on that, just let her stay as close as she liked.

Besides Nyx, Castiel was almost a hovering shadow that guarded her, but for all of his intentions to ‘talk’, they never had a moment alone. Between the Winchesters helping him with the spell he needed, Nyx’s neediness, and her own exhaustion, they resorted to almost indifferent conversation when they did see each other. 

As the hours ticked by slowly, there was always with a lingering tension that Meg was finding harder and harder to ignore. Now, faced with a week alone with the angel, she wasn’t so sure she was looking forward to it anymore than he was. Especially if the silence and awkwardness continued.

Dean had spent the week tinkering with the old machine so it started to run better and though Meg never thanked him, he had enjoyed it.  It kept him busy and he needed that to keep his mind off his heart problems and Sam’s ever present headaches.

When he finally tossed her keys the day she was to leave, Meg casually asked if he cut her brakes and he had ignored that, leaving her to follow him to a grocery store near the town limits. The old parking lot behind the store was in the open and with just enough of a constant stream of traffic that the hunters and demon wouldn’t be noticed if anything strange happened.

“We’re stocking you up,” Dean said to Meg as he carried a bag for her and dropped it into the back of the Cougar. “Gonna keep this brief. Cas pulls his spell, you get one week and then you come to the bunker. Should be enough to lead them off.”

“You hope.” Meg rummaged through her own duffel bag. Castiel had been quick to get it from the cabin so that she would at least have clothing versus running around in his old clothes. 

“Well, better Nyx with us right now than with you.”

“Funny.”

“I’m telling you the truth. She’s going to be upset but I know Cas and he’ll do okay. Once he gets his head in the game, that is.”

The demon looked at where Nyx was sitting grumpily in the backseat of the Impala. “You know, Winchester, I’m still trying to figure out why this happened. Cas, Nyx.” Her eyes dragged away. “You and your brother.”

Dean finished rolling a hexbag under a blanket in the trunk and looked up to see Sam helping Nyx out of the Impala.  “You know, the more I tried to figure it out, the less I actually understood. Just better not to think about it.” He looked over at Meg and handed her a knife, not caring about being seen. “Three years and none of us have figured it out anyway.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “So why did you help me, Dean-o?”

“Because I like to think I’m a better man than my father,” he muttered. He gestured at the bags. “Hexbags, spell ingredients, spare clothes even. You guys don’t need food. Even gave you some money but I figure either Cas can do something about that or you can go steal.”

“Free license for anarchy. Love it,” Meg said, smirking at him. Dean lifted his hand between them to gesture for her to hide the knife better.

“You’re feeling better.”

Her nose wrinkled a little. “I had a few days of R and R, Dean. I’m ready to do damage.”

Dean ignored that. “One more time. You and Cas lead them off on a fun little side trip, Cas’s spell gets to work, then you get to the bunker as well. We clear?”

“Crystal. Thanks for the repetition, teach.”

“Good.” Dean looked down at Nyx as she squeezed between them. “Hopefully it’s not a temper tantrum the entire way back.”

Meg arched an eyebrow. “Who does she look like? Sam?”

The taller man glared down at her but Meg was already crouching before Nyx. “Did you say goodbye to Castiel?” she asked and she nodded, eyes going over her shoulder. Castiel stood right behind Sam, carrying another duffel bag. 

“Be good, Nyx,” he warned as he nudged Sam away and she nodded up at him. “We’ll catch up in a few days.” 

Nyx eyed Meg next. “Gonna be good.”

“Yes, you are,” Dean said as he leaned against the Impala. “Or we sell you to the closest Fairy.”

She gave a small shocked sound and Castiel glared at him, putting his hand on Nyx’s head to comfort her. “Dean.”

“Dean’s only saying that because he almost had to service Oberon before,” Sam said devilishly.

At Meg’s snort, Dean looked. “Shut up.”

Shaking her head, Meg looked at Nyx again. “You stay safe, okay?”

Nyx wrapped her arms around her neck and held on. “Don’t want to go.”

“You’ll be fine, Nyx,” Meg muttered before she gently peeled her off. “Take care of Sam and annoy Dean, got it?” The little face was starting to crumple up as Nyx sobbed and the demon sighed. “After this, we’ll go some place new, okay? Where you’ll be safe.”

The sobbing stopped abruptly. Fingers twisting in Meg’s hair, Nyx hesitated then nodded, accepting with incredible trust that Meg wasn’t lying to her. When Sam scooped her up, she looked at her mother and then at Castiel. She waved over Sam’s shoulder at them and Meg spotted Castiel waving good-bye to her.

Not sure why it stung her as well, she turned her back on them.

Listening to the Impala starting to pull away, she focussed on checking the bags of supplies the Winchesters had given them. Enough to keep them on the run for a little while at least. Making sure the knife was tucked into her belt, Meg turned and then took a step back in surprise when she noticed Castiel at the side of her car. He was already changed into jeans, his jacket and overcoat hanging on the car door, and he didn’t seem to notice how cold the air was or that there were a few people passing them as he unbuttoned his dress shirt next. 

Half-naked, he turned and she thought she saw more than a little bit of scar tissue decorating his back as his skin stretched taut over his lean muscles. Muttering about humans and clothing, Castiel buttoned up a white shirt and as he moved beside her Meg glimpsed a strip of tattooing on his side before he covered it. After flipping his collar down, Castiel gave his hair a brief ruffle and made sure his belt was snug around his narrow hips and his jeans were zipped. Meg stared, utterly confused by the sight of him so casually dressed, as Castiel tossed his coat and the rest of his suit in the duffel bag. 

He shouldered past her to put the bag in the trunk, rummaging through his clothes to find his small journal and a jacket Dean had left for him. When he straightened up and caught her staring, Castiel finished zipping the bag and turned sideways to look at her.

Meg licked her lower lip and tilted her head on the side as she stared at him up and down in a slow, wandering gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, shrugging on the jacket. He didn’t notice how Meg quickly stole his journal and tucked within her own coat.

“Besides when you lost your memory and went all healer Emmanuel on the world, I’ve never seen you look so… so…” She snapped her fingers for the word. Castiel’s casual look was bizarre to her but for some reason she couldn’t stop staring. “Human.”

“I assumed a disguise would help me,” he said. “As much as the coat became a part of who I am… it makes me a target. This way I am more inconspicuous.”

“Mm.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What?”

"Nothing." She bit back a grin, knowing he’d caught her leering. "Human eh?"

“Get in the car, Meg.” He took the keys from her and slammed the trunk down. “I’ll drive since you’re still weak.”

"Since when can you drive?" Meg asked curiously though she went to the passenger side. Castiel said nothing, just slid into the driver seat, and he meticulously arranged the rearview mirror and his seat to accommodate his longer legs. When he fumbled with the keys, she chuckled in amusement, and as if embarrassed he jabbed the key into the ignition angrily.

Satisfied at the way the Cougar’s engine nearly purred to life, Castiel revved the car and put it into drive, slowly heading towards the parking lot’s exit.

"All that time as a human and you don’t think I could manage to learn to drive?" he asked, countering her earlier question.

"Well, I figured you were back to wings so why bother? I mean, compared to wings, driving has to be for pussies."

She gasped when he gunned the engine and whipped the car out of the parking lot in a neat spin that he corrected expertly. The car’s momentum forced Meg to clutch the dashboard to keep from slipping to the floor. The Cougar flew down the road in the opposite direction of the bunker, running better now that Dean had fixed its engine. Pushing herself back up on her seat, Meg gaped at Castiel but he kept his attention on the road.

"Okay okay, point made," she snapped.

"Good." She didn’t miss his tiny smirk when he side-eyed her. "Anything else?"

"No, I’m good." Meg quickly buckled her seatbelt, not trusting him. Castiel continued to smirk as he let the old car settle before he eased up on the gas to let it coast. His hands stayed clenched the steering wheel’s base and when Meg looked at him again he seemed tense.

"You’re angry?"

"I didn’t want to leave her with them," Castiel said and then he shrugged a shoulder. He looked through the rearview as if he expected to see the Impala behind them.

Despite her earlier words, Meg softened a little. “Better us than leading Eve or Azazel to her.”

The angel braked for a light and looked over at her. “What if they are more after you this time? And Nyx was a distraction?”

She smirked and looked away. “Pretty sure Eve is after both of us. Your big brother killed Adam and he was pretty attached to her from the sounds of it. But we can fight better on our own for now, and you and I both know that until things settle down we can’t do a thing but wait. You do your big spell, we keep low. It’s not forever, Cas.” 

"Three years felt like forever," he muttered as he drove off again, headed for a more remote area outside of Lebanon where he could start the spell. Meg leaned back and propped her feet up on the dashboard.

"We learn to deal, Cas." She reached out and fiddled with the radio dial but Castiel gave her hand a warning slap.

"I pick the music."

"You think that Winchester rules apply?" she demanded but he didn’t answer. His silence irritated her. “This is my car!” 

"I think my ability to toy with radio frequencies should be a warning."

As if to prove his point, the dial moved on its own to an old country station and immediately a twangy love song whined through the speakers.

Meg rolled her eyes and turned her head to look away from him. “This is Hell.”

“Yes, well.” He turned the radio to an old rock station instead. “You would know.”

~~

The vampires standing on the roadway inhaled deeply as they watched the car shoot by. Made by the Alpha himself, they were both old and very powerful, so much so that all they had to do was stretch their senses out to track their prey. Eve had sent her orders to all of her children and with those orders had come the shards of memory Adam had left behind, of smells and appearances. They were to look for a trench-coated angel and a demon who had bittersweet scent.

“The angel is in the car?” the female asked and her mate nodded.

“Tell the mother. They are travelling fast but we can catch them shortly.”

~~

Several miles outside of Lebanon, Castiel pulled over and parked the car in a wood lot. Retrieving his supplies from the trunk, he quickly mixed together drops of his blood, a few strands of Meg’s hair, and enough herbs to cover all aspects of the spell he wanted. Setting the bowl afire, he crouched on the ground between two trees and began to sketch chalk lines in the dirt.

Sitting on the hood of the Cougar, Meg swung her legs back and forth, already so bored she was thinking of whining at him. A short distance away, Castiel continued to draw his lines and his wards before carefully setting the burning bowl between two marker lines. When he didn’t seem to want to pay any attention to her, Meg shifted her weight and pulled the journal out to look at a few pages, curiosity getting the better of her.

It was nearly illegible scrawl to her, with dates acting as headers counting down. Chewing on her lower lip, Meg turned several pages and ran her fingers over the worn paper. It looked more like a scrapbook than a journal to her. He had pasted news clippings, wrote occasionally in Enochian, and drew pictures of some landmarks. The small journal was so layered and so misshapen that it was no wonder he handled it with such care. Her eye caught one of the newer pages that had been threaded in, where the paper was still crisp and the ink clear, and she carefully turned to it. 

_Three years ago…_

Before she could read more than those three words, she was aware of a shadow going over the page and glanced up to see Castiel standing before her. His hands were clenched in fists at his side and he looked pointedly down at the book.

“Where did you get that?”

“Well, I’m fresh out of reading material. Wondered if this was like reading Castiel the Spy or something,” she said, thumbing through the pages as if his glare didn’t bother her.

“It was very personal but….” He stopped and reached out to take the book from her. When her hand held on, he shook his head and pointedly turned to the page where a news-clipping of meteorite showers unfolded. “This is where you should start. It was a few days after I left the bunker. The first time, anyway.”

Confused that he hadn’t yelled at her, Meg watched him turn away to pour Holy Oil onto the circle’s marks. She set the journal down and watched him as he raised his hands and his eyes began to glow. He began a low recital of guttural Enochian and Latin blended together into a spell, and the wind picked up dramatically enough that she rolled her own eyes.

_Whatever_ .

But her jaw dropped just a little as the herbs he had thrown down began to rise and turn in the wind and with a flash of light suddenly she was staring at a duplicate of Castiel. Only this angel was in a tan overcoat, standing next to a small brunette in dark denim and leather. Fascinated, she scooted off the car as another copy of them both rose on the opposite side, and then another duo. Three versions of the angel and demon stood before her.

“Whoa, someone learned some big boy spells,” Meg muttered and she went up to a copy of her meatsuit. The blank stare didn’t appear to see her at all and when Castiel spoke abruptly the copy walked off on its own. All the Castiels and Megs walked off in opposite directions and that strange smell Meg had always attributed to Castiel and a smell of sulphur went with them. The odours were so strong that she actually wanted to sneeze.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she called out as the six illusions continued to walk away. His eyes no longer glowing, Castiel dropped his hands and turned towards her. 

“I had to do something with all the time on my hands as a human. Spells took me time to perfect but they kept me fighting.” He came back towards her, the hem of his jeans dragging in the dirt and his hair ruffled by the wind he had caused. He looked so vulnerable and human to her and Meg wasn’t sure how it made her feel. Castiel didn’t appear to realize the difference. “But with my Grace, spells are easier to manipulate. With those six out, the monsters will have to track every one of them. Their scents are stronger from the spell and the illusions will hold for days before they fall apart. It’s a distraction.”

“Not a bad plan.” She reached out and patted his shoulder condescendingly. “What a smart boy you are.”

Glaring at her, Castiel picked up the car keys and gruffly told her to get back in the car.

~~

Sam propped up the spell book in his lap and leaned back on the couch. Across from him, Nyx was humming and drawing now. After a furious temper tantrum about Meg and Castiel having left her, Dean had wheedled her with chocolate milk until she had sat down to sulk instead. The break had given the brothers enough time to research what they could on Eve and Dean had already called Kevin to get him back to the bunker. With the bunker’s more extensive archives, they hoped something, anything, could tell them what to expect.

A sudden tap to his knee made Sam put the book down and stare at Nyx. She held a drawing out to him. “What’s this?” he asked indulgently of the black dots scattered over the page.

“Monsters.”

“Why monsters? Monsters don’t fly.”

“Not all of them,” Nyx said as if it was some secret. She handed him another drawing, mostly blue scribbles around badly sketched fish.

“A… beach?” he tried and she nodded. “You really want to go to a beach, huh?”

But something in her shuttered up a little and she snatched her drawing back. “Beaches are scary.”

“Well.” He reached out and drew a happy face with his marker on one of her fish. “You be very good and we’ll teach you how to swim. That way you won’t be scared.”

“Oh!” There was something about the way that Nyx rolled her eyes and stomped her foot, as if he just _didn’t get it,_ that reminded Sam so much of both Castiel and Meg that he could only stare at her in wonder.

~~~

  The slow drag of the car coming to a halt woke Meg from her doze after her eighth hour in the car. Wincing at the cramp in her neck, she opened her eyes to see the neon sign of a motel and bar glowing down at her. The Cougar made a low choking sound as Castiel cut the engine and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Stifling a yawn, Meg ran her eyes over the building and noticed the trucks and old cars that had packed the lot.

“I needed a rest,” the angel said when he noticed her eyes were open.

“Thought you could go all night,” Meg said, letting the innuendo drip off her tongue as she turned her head. Castiel looked back at her, clearly about to say something. But when her eyes met his, he seemed to rethink it.

“It’s been a long day. We’re near St. Louis, I think.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to go too far out from Kansas. This is as good a spot as any and the city gives us some cover.”

“A simple ‘no, I can’t anymore’, would have been fine,” she muttered as she unbuckled her belt and slipped out of the car. Castiel followed her and watched her stretch, Meg groaning at the satisfying pull on her muscles moving after being cramped in the car for so long without a break. When she caught him staring, he quickly jerked his gaze back to the car and popped the trunk to grab the wallet and cash Dean had loaned him. 

“I’m going to get a room for you. I think staying in one spot for now, keeping our ear close to the ground… that isn’t such a bad idea. The weather is going to turn bad soon, from what the radio station said.” He counted off some bills and Meg squinted over his shoulder at his fake ID.

“Steve? You went by Steve for a while?” He looked over his shoulder at her and she made a face. “That’s a terrible name for you.”

“I went by it for months as a human. It seemed to work fine.”

“Lacks some mystery, angel.” She shrugged. “Do what you want. I don’t sleep. Minus the nap time when I get bored.”

Castiel put the trunk down with a sigh. “It is just easier, Meg.” Resting back on the car, he held out a twenty. “You can go and get something to eat. I will get the room.”

Meg arched an eyebrow at the sight of the money. “I don’t eat,” she started but it was obvious that he wasn’t feeling charitable to her sarcasm. Taking the bill, she shook her head. “Fine. Grouchy when you’ve been driving, huh?”

He ignored that and turned away to look at the motel. “I’ll see about double beds. Judging by the amount of cars, separate rooms might be….”

“What’s the point? You don’t sleep and neither do I. Go for cheap, Cas, and just get a single room. We’re going to be here a bit.” Without pausing to see his reaction, Meg brushed by him and went towards the bar. She didn’t notice the frustrated warning look he shot at two men that whistled at her or how he vanished from sight in the next moment.

~~

The motel manager groaned and cursed as he watched the weather channel. Nothing else to do but wait for the storm to roll in and roll out as usual. Probably would bring in several feet of snow, what with how crazy the weather had been lately. Propping his chin up on his hand, he sighed and tapped on the remote volume.

“A new system is moving in, with a possible risk of a snow storm. Warnings in effect for all surrounding counties and we are looking forward to a white Christmas.” The anchor was so cheery about it that the manager groaned and turned it off with another loud expletive.

“I’m not very fond of happy meteorologists either,” a new voice said suddenly and he looked up to see a dark-haired man staring at him, his smile friendly but the expression didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Yeah. Cuts down on business.”

“So you have rooms.” Castiel leaned close to check his name tag. “Robbie. I can pay in cash.”

The manager gave him a look that spoke distrusting volumes. “No paper trail, huh?”

“Do you have a room or not?” Castiel asked more forcefully. “I need it for nearly a week.”

“Always have rooms in the down season. You need a few or just the one?”

The angel hesitated, debating on asking for two, but then shrugged. “Just one. I don’t need sleep and she…”

“She?” The scruffy manager winked. “Say no more. I got ya.”

Castiel blinked at the almost lecherous look. “What?”

“I’m all for some fun on the side. Girl better be worth it if you’re buying a room for a week,” he said and Castiel only nodded in a bewildered way, handing over a few of bills when he named his price. Still puzzling over the manager’s wink, he thanked the man and left.

It was when he was facing the bed on his own that the motel room suddenly seemed too small for two of them, and he realized what the man had thought about him and Meg. Well, what Castiel thought was inferred at least by that knowing grin and wink he’d been given. It was strange that that simple human had managed to make him, an angel, actually feel nervous about a situation that he was sure Meg hadn’t been considering when she suggested just the one room. 

Setting down the duffel bags, Castiel swallowed deeply and looked nervously at the bed one last time before leaving to find where the demon had gone.

~~

The bar was loud, packed with a party of rowdy men and women, but they were so focussed on their revelling they had left Meg alone for the most part after a few bad attempts at flirting. She was left alone with her drinking, which was the best thing to happen so far after that long drive. Besides the lack of humans bother her, she liked the bar; it was all old hardwood, a strong whisky smell mixed with smoke and not a single demon in sight.

Meg rested her chin on her palm and stared up at the bar TV. The weather was being upgraded from possible storm to a definite one coming in. Go figure.

She heard the bar stool being pulled out slowly beside her and tensed instinctively. Fingers tightening on the beer bottle, she simply kept her eyes on the screen and tilted the bottle to her lips to take a longer swallow. When she heard the stool scrape on the floor again, she felt her skin prickling at the same time and knew who it was causing such a reaction.

“Can I sit with you?”

Her eyes closed and she set the bottle back down. “Might as well.” Meg looked over at Castiel as he sat beside her and made himself comfortable. “Don’t want to see you getting hit on by those rougher-than-average truckers over there.”

He glanced across her down the bar to where the bachelor party had gone over into the pool room. “You know that some of them are skinwalkers?”

“Mmhmm. Not bad guys, actually. Unlike the humans, they backed down when I said thanks but no thanks. Not a hint that they’ve been infected.” She shrugged. “Figured taking them out back to off ‘em would raise some eyebrows but they seemed clueless as to what I was. Must be all that soap I used earlier.”

Castiel rested his elbows on the bar before rubbing tiredly at his face, and Meg watched him. “So this is our big plan?” she asked. “Hang out until something happens to us?”

He shrugged, fingers scratching down his scruffy chin. “Not much else we can do. If there are monsters are in the area and we can distract them by being here, Dean and Sam can get things cloaked in Lebanon.”

She looked down at her bottle. “I really don’t like the thought of leaving her with them.”

“Like you said, they were the best choice, Meg.”

“Yeah.”

“If I could find anything funny about this, it would be that two humans are a better choice than an angel or demon.” Castiel suddenly smiled crookedly and raised a hand to order a beer. When he turned back to her, he almost seemed relaxed. “It’s strange because despite what she is, both Dean and Sam are somewhat attached to her.”

“Not a bad thing, I guess.” Meg rolled her eyes and rested her chin back down on her hand. “So we have what… six days to go? Is your little trick working?” 

“Beyond those skinwalkers, I’ve not felt anything.” He paid for his beer when it arrived and took a long drink. He nearly finished the bottle before he set it down and looked around the room again. Meg crossed her legs and looked back up to stare at his reflection in the bar mirror. He appeared to be as tired as she felt, which for creatures such as them was rare. 

“Six days. That’s a long time, Castiel,” Meg said, tapping her fingers against her chin. She tilted her head and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “We’re going to have to find some way to occupy ourselves for those days.”

She looked over at him and slowly he turned his head toward her, his blue eyes already narrowed as he took in her face. Meg held the stare and flashed him a lazy grin when she saw the curiosity in his gaze. His eyes dropped from hers and Castiel looked away at his bottle again while Meg turned back to her drinking, and he finished the remainder with a loud gulp.

Meg took her own time drinking, savouring the cool taste of hops as she watched the humans continue their party. Castiel appeared deep in thought, checking his phone now and then as if expecting a call from the Winchesters already. The silence was beginning to make the thick tension between them.

Meg was getting to her feet to try to attract the bartender for another drink when Castiel’s hand wrapped around her elbow and held her back. His grip squeezed just a little to warn her and Meg turned to see him standing too close to her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze and whatever it was she saw made her stomach twist into a painful knot. Before she could pull away, the air shifted around them and suddenly they were outside in the parking lot.

Castiel’s fingers loosened on her arm only to lift and dive into her hair and he held her still, pressed between him and her old car.

“You’re teasing me. Like you used to,” he whispered and she grinned at the way his other hand stroked over her cheek. He let her go when Meg didn’t answer him right away. She could feel the faintest sensation of a threat there and still wore her cocky grin as she walked around him a little.

“You can remember that?” Meg asked, stepping back into his space.

His eyes were on her mouth and she leaned up slowly, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Knowing what he wanted to do. Both of them could remember the other times they had touched, the sheer brutality and anger that had bit at them both, and that almost shy kiss just days before.

It was why this time seemed to be far more intense, when faced with the fact that they were alone and no longer able to hide from each other.

Castiel was still staring at her mouth.

“May I kiss you?” he asked suddenly and she tilted her head back. He still hadn’t looked away from her. “I’d like to ask rather than be stabbed for assuming I can.”

She grinned and lifted her hand up his chest to rest over his heart. It was banging away furiously and when her eyes met his she could see how dilated his eyes were.

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, his movements slow and calm in contrast to the rapid beating of his heart beneath Meg’s hand, and his lips grazed hers.

Loud honking pulled them apart as a carful of teenagers cruised by in a pickup. Meg arched a brow as the kids shouted at them to get a room and she saw the faint stain of blush on his face at being caught. The fact that an angel could be embarrassed by something he should have long gotten over almost made her smile. She didn’t look away though, just waited for him to look up at her. But Castiel was focussing everywhere else but her, as if he was confused about what he wanted from her.

Meg didn’t blame him. She was just as confused by the change between them but the tension was crackling and growing. The heat between them felt so thick that she knew she had to get him to focus again.

“Clarence,” Meg murmured and his eyes darted back hers at her sudden use of his old nickname. His lips were still half-parted, an invitation she was willing to take, and she leaned up to him. Her mouth hovered just under his, teasing him with breath and promise. Castiel’s eyes closed until all she could see was the faintest slivers of blue.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” he whispered back and she could taste him in the air that brushed over her lips. She wet her lips and felt him jerk when the moist touch of her tongue grazed his lower lip. 

“I know. Come on. Kiss me,” she ordered,  softening the terse order with a brush of her hand under his jacket, her knuckles brushing his abdomen. “Do you remember how?”

She caught the faint light in his eyes, one that reminded her of the glint that had been there years ago when his face had been in firelight and he’d managed to surprise her with a near-seduction. His head dropped, closing the inches between them, and she gasped as his hands gripped her hips to pull her up a little before his lips sank into hers. Tasting his breath within her mouth, Meg tilted her head and lifted a hand to cup his head, her fingers trailing over the nape of his neck. The kiss was familiar, but there was also a hesitation there.

She ended the kiss quickly and stared up at him. She could see him trying to guess what she was up to and grinned at the uncertainty in those eyes.

“Come on, Clarence,” she muttered, “kiss me like you mean it. I know you can.”

His grip on her tightened and she found herself whipped around and crushed into the Cougar’s door. Before she could speak his mouth was on hers again and his hand was in her hair, pulling hard enough that she had to tip her head back. Parting her legs, she pressed into him and shivered.

This kiss was hot and fierce, somehow more startling because of the change in Castiel’s force. The faint keening sound in her throat was one of pleasure as his other hand roamed over her body in possessive strokes and she gripped the back of his head in return, pulling on his hair. She felt his teeth grate over her lower lip and she opened her mouth wider, stabbing her tongue against his. He groaned, the sound vibrating through his larger body, and she grinned into the kiss as she let her hands go down his chest. 

Now this was the kind of kiss she remembered from this angel.

It was needy, desire-laden, and intense. Meg ran her fingers back up his body and cupped the side of his face, her head tilting further back as he stepped into her and the kiss became even deeper. The rasp of his scruffy jaw against her skin and the way he responded to her biting of his lip with his own nips gave the kiss that spark of reality she somehow needed.

Castiel suddenly flicked her coat open and cupped her breast, testing the weight of it in his hand before he broke the kiss. Ignoring her protest that she didn’t actually need that much air, he lowered his head and his lips rested over her pulse, sucking hard enough that her words turned another moan. The hand on her breast squeezed gently in time with how his lips moved on her skin.

“Hell… Cas…” She held onto his head and leaned over to suck at his earlobe, her fingers going through his dark hair to hold him steady.

Castiel’s mouth moved up her neck, peppering her skin with biting kisses that stung and soothed all at once. When she lipped at his earlobe again, he groaned and rested his mouth against hers for a moment before he moved back.

His breath coming fast and hard, he stared at her with wide eyes as his tongue flicked out across his swollen lips.

“I- I forgot what that was like,” Castiel admitted. “How intense it could be.”

Meg had to clear her throat. “Really? Because the bunker was…”

He shook his head, clearly not wanting to remember that. “I don’t think that was close to how this felt.”

A bit unsteady herself, Meg looked down between them and she felt Castiel start to move back towards her. 

The loud ring of his phone made him groan and turn away to answer.

“What?” he snarled and Dean’s hesitant hello made him sigh. “Dean. Sorry.”

Meg huffed and backed away but Castiel caught her arm in his hand and held on.

“Yes, I can talk. You heard something?”

With his hand in Meg’s, Castiel began to talk to Dean and didn’t seem to notice her frustration as he led her towards the motel.

~~

Interrupted. Again.

Some crappy record had to exist that they were trying to beat, Meg figured as she scrubbed at the edges of her shirt with the soap. After her shower, she’d peeked out and noticed that the angel was still talking on the phone. Washing her shirt was the better choice than awkwardly waiting for him to finish. Stealing a new one wouldn’t work; half the people staying in the motel were little old ladies or bikers who had two hundred pounds on her.

Eavesdropping shamelessly, she listened to him and Dean discussing the routes monsters could take, the storm coming in, and even how the spell had worked. Annoyed with how dull his conversation was, Meg pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and focussed on the shirt. When Castiel had pushed her into the car it had smeared road dust all up the pristine white shirt.

Thinking of that moment made her shiver a little. They had come so close again and with a suddenness she had been prepared to enjoy but the interruption had made stolen all of that heat and desire. The walk to the motel room had been awkward, Castiel talking to Dean on the phone as if he was trying to distract himself from her, and knowing that he hadn’t put the phone down made Meg wonder if he was now doing it deliberately. 

With the door open, she could hear when Castiel’s low voice, amazingly, lightened a little in its grimness and Meg instantly knew he was talking to Nyx. His voice was still low and gravelly, but no longer as cold when talking to her. 

He did love that little girl, she admitted to herself.

Standing half-naked before the sink, Meg tossed her shirt over the shower rack and started to blot her hair with a towel. It was hard not to think unsure thoughts about what she wanted to happen after he hung up the phone.

~

Castiel clicked off the phone and sighed as he leaned back in the ragged armchair. Hearing Nyx’s chatter and Dean’s reassurances that nothing was following them had been what he needed to hear. He could go out, lay traps for the monsters if they followed, and wait until Meg was settled before returning. Maybe keeping himself busy would help the tension he was experiencing. 

Except he made no move to leave. As he listened to Meg running the taps again, he thought maybe he could stay and wait to see what she wanted to do. He was sure Meg was feeling better; she had felt so alive when he had touched her, when he had kissed her. He just didn’t know what to do with what had happened between them. Her response to his kiss had been unexpected and intense, and he had been surprised at how he had nearly lost his control when he had felt how willing she was.

The creak of the door opening wider thanks to the bathroom fan’s breeze made him look up to see Meg standing at the sink. She was busy rubbing at her hair and didn’t seem to care that he was staring at her.

Castiel swallowed as he took in the slopes and dips of her body as Meg leaned back a little from the sink to untangle a knot. He had been human long enough that he was aware of the physical attraction he could have for a body now and he felt it throbbing through him. He also knew that it was mostly because of who was in the body that he was attracted to her. He wanted the demon and the body she wore had little to do with that.

Meg’s belt was undone, dangling from her belt loops so that her jeans rode impossibly low on her slim hips. Castiel watched the spill of her hair over her shoulders as she looked back up at the mirror, and suddenly he felt the urge to touch her when he saw the damp waves of her hair caress the top of her breasts and the lace edges of her bra. When she swiped the towel down over her stomach, he followed the slow way it circled over her skin

Even from though the rest of the room was dimly lit, the light in the bathroom gave her an odd glow and Castiel tried to make himself look away but failed completely. Faced down with what he felt and wanted, he knew if he didn’t leave he would make a fool of himself like he had had at the bunker.

He knew how he loved her and it wasn’t fair that, after all the time together and all that time spent apart, he was still so unsure about the one demon he knew better than any other. He had felt her desire earlier but if it was just for the sake of sex then he should have had no urge to step further. Castiel wanted more than just lust from Meg and he wanted it with a greediness he had learned from being human.

That was, at least, what he kept telling himself as he sat and watched her continue to towel her hair. The moment was reminding him of three years ago when he had watched her dry herself and he wondered if she realized that.

Then he spotted was the slightest tilt to her head that convinced him she knew that he was watching. Their eyes met across the short distance as she reached forward to turn on the sink taps, her fingers playing in the water. He saw her eyes move, just a little, towards him and she gave him a knowing smirk before turning her attention back to the mirror.

Castiel swallowed loudly and looked away from her to steady himself, before reaching out to put his phone on silent.

~

Meg’s head tipped forward to watch the water drain down the sink as the taps ran hot water over her hands. She could still feel the coolness of the room on her  damp skin. It felt good to just stand and imagine her body was still warm from the shower though she was already aware of the cold settling in already.

Knowing that Castiel watched her had made a part of her want to taunt him for his inaction, which was why she had taken her time with the water and the towelling, but now she was too tired for much more teasing. Either they’d go back to that distance between them, which would make for an awkward week together, or everything would come out in the open.  

She was aware of how on edge she was when she heard him move around in the main room and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath.

When her eyes opened, his reflection was in the mirror. Castiel had toed off his sneakers and socks in order to sneak up on her without zapping and they stared at one another as he stood in the doorway. The angel looked as stoic and expressionless as ever, until she noticed he wasn’t looking anywhere but at her face with that sort of deep gaze that said he was seeing her trueface. Meg resisted the urge to let her true self out, to show him every dark demon part of her, but Castiel’s eyes roamed slowly from her feet to her face and then went to her eyes. The look was something she remembered from three years ago when she’d opened a door and invited him to spend a lonely night with her.

When she turned she was met by his touch on her shoulder, before his fingers slid into her damp hair to draw her up close. His breath drifted across her mouth when he stooped to kiss her, his teeth clicking briefly against hers before he found the right angle. Meg’s startled moan gave way to a deep-throated growl when his lips nudged hers apart in a slow kiss, and she lifted her hands to clutch his shoulders. Castiel deepened the kiss when he felt her eager response, his other hand going up over her stomach and stroking the smooth skin below her bra straps. Meg turned her head with his, fingers moving into his hair to tug a little, and she stroked her tongue over his lower lip.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned over her shoulder to turn the taps off, pressing her into the sink as he did so.

“I know we said we should talk,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Doesn’t feel like we’re going to talk,” Meg said, chuckling as she leaned back against the ceramic and pulled on the waist of his pants. He stumbled into her and she felt his mouth against her ear when he managed to catch his balance.

“I noticed. Maybe it is just that I missed this too much,” he admitted, the low words vibrating in her ear and making her shudder. Slowly, Castiel pulled back a little. His nose brushed her ear and she felt the rasp of his scruffy jaw against her cheek as he moved to look into her eyes. He saw her hesitation, the way her eyes dropped to the side as her hands began to curl into fists on his chest, and quickly misread it. “But we can stop this now.”

Meg looked back at him with a smirk. “We’re fine, Castiel. Trust me; if anything the past few weeks helped give me some… perspective.”

He nodded as if that made all the sense in the world before his head bent again. He still acted as if she was the skittish one when she could almost feel him ready to leap out of his skin with nerves. Meg moved so that her body was snug against his as she bent her head back and went onto her toes to kiss him. She heard him moan in gratitude when she kissed him, tongue stroking against his lower lip until his mouth opened and she tasted his tongue. His hand left her side to cradle the back of her head and they twisted together as he lifted her up onto the sink’s edge, Meg’s hands grasping his shoulders. The jacket he wore slid off him without any real effort on her part and he let it fall to the floor behind him. Meg teetered on the old ceramic sink, moaning as he leaned down and licked at the top of her breasts, his teeth pulling at the edge of her bra and letting it snap back on her skin. 

But when he felt her eager hands going to his belt, he brushed them away and stepped back so he could kick his jacket to the side. He saw her annoyance at the distance and leaned back forward to touch his lips against hers, his hips pressing between her legs.

"I’m here. I’m not leaving you," he muttered.

Before she could move again, he covered her mouth with his, tongue stroking her lower lip to coax her mouth to open. Castiel felt her smile into the kiss just before her nails sunk into his shoulders. Hands sliding around her small waist, he tightened his grip and lifted her up off the sink.

With a muffled whine of approval, Meg wrapped her legs around his hips and let him carry her back to the main room without breaking the kiss this time. He held her easily, using his Grace to turn on a lamp so that he could see her more clearly through the shadows. Meg hitched her legs higher around his waist and her hands tightened on his shoulders as she pulled herself up his body with a slow roll of her hips. Her movements made him almost trip over his own feet with how good the constant rocking felt against his groin.

"Slow down," he ordered when she tried to nearly crawl up his body to get more of his mouth. Meg groaned and her nails raked over the back of his neck.

"Time like this and you want slow?" she muttered against his cheek. Castiel shuddered as he felt the pricking of her nails on his neck.

"Slow." His hands held her hips closer to him as he knelt on the bed and laid her down on the mattress beneath him. "We went too fast last time and I want this time with you."

“No use arguing, huh?” Meg countered and he shrugged.

“Not really, no.”

She sighed as if she was surrendering. “All right then, Clarence, have at it.”

He muttered against her neck that she always had been too impatient and Meg chuckled at the gruffness in his voice. Her eyes went to the ceiling fan and he began to press open mouthed kisses against her chest, teeth nipping at the front closure of her bra and then his tongue travelling along the lace lining.  Meg let her legs cradle his hips and felt his fingers tracing up her thighs to the button on her jeans. He was teasing her, she thought, and she squirmed to try to get his hands lower. When he paused, his fingers teasing the waist of her jeans, she sighed heavily in frustration.

Clearly the angel with the photographic memory remembered exactly how this slow and steady approach would make her feel.

“Cas….”

"Shh." He bit gently at the top of her breast before rocking forward so that his mouth was on hers again. Meg groaned at the kiss and his fingers tightened on her legs when she deliberately shifted her hips up into him. She nudged where he was hard and caused a groan when she distracted him from kissing her. 

"Still overdressed," she grumbled and reached down to unbutton her jeans for him. Castiel braced himself with an arm and watched her try to wiggle free of the pants, chuckling at the sight of her.

"You’re not helping," Meg said.

"I’ve learned to take a bit humour in this. Watching you do this is almost ador—," Castiel started and the demon glared at him while she managed to push her jeans down to her knees.

"You say adorable and we stop right now," she warned and Castiel lowered his head to hide his grin before he helped her throw the jeans off the bed.

When she settled back down, he let his free hand trace down the flat of her stomach to where it curved just a little, and he ran his finger over the waistband of her underwear. Meg watched his hand, waited for him to do something, but all he did was pull gently at the elastic. Muttering that he was stalling deliberately, she ran her hands down his chest and pushed him back on his knees as she sat up. She nimbly undid the collar of his shirt and began to start on the other buttons.

Distracted by her touch, Castiel brushed her hands out of the way and started doing it himself.

Meg eyed him as he knelt over her, unbuttoning his shirt and looking completely occupied by it. Not sure why, her eyes flicked to the angel sword he’d left on the side-table and she thought she could feel its heat from the distance. But maybe it was just Castiel’s own body radiating that energy. Meg rubbed her hand over the top of her breasts and looked back to the lean torso that was being revealed inch by slow inch, and finally Castiel finished the last button and shrugged the shirt off. He noticed her staring and stopped, tilting his head at her curiously as he tossed his shirt into the corner. 

“What?”

"You’re fitter than I remember." She leaned closer and he jerked a little when her mouth touched the ridge of his stomach. He felt her tongue lap daintily at the Enochian tattoo mark and he shuddered at the pleasure this kiss gave him, at the sparks coursing through his body that he’d forgotten he could feel. Meg hummed against his skin, and Castiel sank his fingers into her hair to hold her in place as she traced her tongue across the tattoo’s markings and over his hipbone where it peeked out from just above his jeans.

"Not that you were out of shape before,” she continued, ignoring his groan when she paused in her caress, “but you’re definitely a little more…. defined now."

As if to accent what she said, she sat closer and let her tongue trace the centre of his chest while her hands held his hips steady against her. She heard his breath coming out shaky and fast and grinned against his chest when his hands quickly cupped her breasts. As if to distract himself, he dove his fingers into the lace bra cups to pull them down, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples so they hardened. But Meg’s mouth was moving in snaky trails over his skin, succeeding in unhinging him a little more.

"I’m glad you approve," he said and his breathing hitched again when she leaned up on her knees to run her tongue higher.

"Mm," she moaned in agreement and then gently blew on the wet trail her mouth had left. He shivered again and she chuckled. "Very pretty, Clarence."

Her hands were soon back on his belt buckle but he stopped her, ignoring her frustrated groan as he put his hand on hers, fingers wrapping in hers to keep her from going any further in distracting him. With his other hand Castiel lifted her chin so he could kiss her deeply instead. With all of his desire focussed on her, Meg felt overwhelmed for a moment and she started to pant as Grace singed over her skin, prickling her skin as her darkness rose to meet it. The strange combination felt like an overall ache that made her body yearn for more when he broke the contact.

"Beautiful," he muttered as he watched the way his glow went over her skin when he let his Grace out a little more. She was watching it play over their joined hands, her eyes wide, and Castiel felt something tighten in his stomach when she looked up at him again. “Meg,” he began, before he simply tilted his head to kiss her again, her hands going into his hair to hold him through the kiss. Hearing her groan, he slid his palms up over her stomach to cup her breast, squeezing gently, and he moved his mouth to suck at her collarbone as he undid the clasp of her bra.

"How slow are you planning on going?" she asked, hiccupping a little when he knelt against her and nudged her back on the bed with a gentle push until her head met the pillow. His mouth was hot as he licked and bit at the rise of her breasts, going lower than he before. Drawing the bra straps down and tossing it to the corner, he rolled back against her to take a nipple in his mouth and suck. Meg’s moan deepened at the pressure of his teeth when they just grazed her sensitive skin. When she reached to clutch his head to her breast, he pulled back and gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers until she shifted again.

His eyes went over the pale length of her body thoughtfully.

"I want to go very slow," Castiel admitted before he began to kiss each rib through her skin. The hands on her breasts continued to knead until she ached and began to arch into the touches.

"I might fall asleep," Meg said sarcastically though her legs fall apart at the touch of his knee. He murmured and shook his head so she felt his dark hair brush the underside of her breast.

"Then I’ll keep you awake."

"You are awfully self-confident, aren’t you?" she asked and he smiled as his head lifted. Eyes locked on hers, he shifted her legs over his shoulder and stripped her panties off before pressing a warm kiss against the outside of her knee.

"I remember that night when you first let me really touch you," he said as he laid back down beside her, his mouth following the curve of her stomach and tasting the slowly gathering sweat of her skin. "When I told you I loved you."

Her breath hitched a little as he teased a hipbone with his teeth but it wasn’t just from the touch of his mouth. The memory was one she had tucked away and it felt as sharp now as it had three years ago.

"How carefully I made sure I learned you and what made you want me." He just brushed the top of her mound with his chin and she closed her eyes, hands going to his hair to guide him. "I wonder if anything changed."

"You’re teasing me," Meg muttered and he smiled, nipping at her inner thigh before his mouth moved closer to her.

"Maybe a little."

"I’m starting to fall asleep, and if you don’t hurry the hell — oh." Her hips shot up off the bed as he flicked at her clit with his tongue. Castiel chuckled and the sound only made her hips move up, trying to get him closer and closer.

His fingers slid up her thighs as he lapped at her. He groaned when she clenched her thighs around his head and her nails raked through his hair. “Damn, you didn’t get rusty, huh?” Meg groaned. Oh hell, she hadn’t realized how much…

_I missed this. I missed you._

She sank her teeth sharply into her lower lip to keep from saying anything like that.

Castiel’s head stayed bent while he gently worked at her. He licked at her again, paused, and then lifted his head. “I don’t think I forgot how you tasted. Bitter, dark, and somehow still sweet.”

He listened to her moan in response and he clamped his arms around her thighs, keeping her tight to his mouth. Her hips bucked and he forced her to stay still, moaning against her when she cried out. His tongue dove deeper, forcing the sensations to spiral tighter inside of her stomach. Meg twisted a little and felt his hands tightening on her thighs, the angel not seeming to care that she was ready for more. He simply tongued and rubbed at her, content in the moans she was making for him. He held her on the edge with surprising patience, until her body pitched up at his desperately, and he grinned at how loud her protests became when he paused again.

“Let me come,” she hissed when he drew back and pressed a kiss to her thigh. His stubble raked on her soft skin and he chuckled, finding it amusing that she threatened him when he was the one who could ease that ache she was feeling. Meg’s hips rolled impatiently and when he kissed her thigh again he heard her begin to ramble about angels being bastards.

“Damn it, Cas. Come…on….”

“I miss the way you moaned and the way you’d demand for more. Threatened me.” He moved forward and suckled on her clit so hard that Meg squealed and thrust her hips up to him, nearly rolling him off of her.

“Fuck, Cas!”

“Because we both know that you like when I touch you like this. I can hear it. Feel it.” He grated his teeth gently over her soft folds and then moved up to kiss her stomach. When her legs fell further apart, his hand slid between her thighs and he let his fingers caress up and down before thrusting them into her. He moaned at how wet she was but he didn’t move his mouth any closer to her. “Louder, Meg.”

“I hate you,” she moaned, hands clutching at his head to try to bring him where she wanted him. Castiel chuckled and leaned back a little, the dark look in his eyes making her roll her own.

“That’s not true,” he said, starting to pull his fingers free.

“Hell, don’t stop!” Her voice had dropped off a little, a desperate edge to it.

“Say it,” he murmured, his finger curling forward, his thumb rubbing a slow circle on her clit. He breathed against her as he nuzzled the dark curls between her legs. 

She whimpered, body so on edge she was in near pain. “Please…”

“I want more,” he whispered, flicking his tongue against the crease of her thigh and hip, and listened to her low hum of disappointment when it wasn’t close enough. “You know what I want to hear.”

She could barely stand to look at him. The angel had clearly learned to be more confident in his brief time spent as a human and was intent on making her suffer for it. His low groan against the flesh of her thigh when she lifted her hips to try to force him to lick her again made her shudder and he nipped her thigh again.

“Meg?”

Her eyes almost rolled back in her head as he simply breathed on her, waiting.

“I-I…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I still want you.”

He hesitated, his other hand stroking her leg and she opened her eyes. His head lifted from her thighs and she saw him looking at her. Blue eyes met brown, equally dark now with desire and heat, and she held his gaze, biting into her lower lip. The hand in his hair tugged gently.

“I need you.”

That seemed to be what he wanted as he lowered his head and kissed her intimately again, tongue drawing a circle on her swollen flesh.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, eyes darting over her quivering belly to her face. Meg felt something coil in her at that look and then release in a bone-jarring agony.

She cried out his name when he didn’t stop licking and thrusting his tongue into her. Even when she came again so suddenly and violently that she nearly lost her strength, when her throat was sore from the cries and her mouth was dry and her body slick with sweat,  it wasn’t enough until she nearly went limp.

When she managed to catch her breath, she could feel Castiel nuzzling at her stomach.

Hell, she had missed her angel and now there was no denying it to either of them.

Meg shuddered and tugged harder on his hair as she came back down from her high. When her eyes opened, he was looking up at her with an immensely smug and pleased expression. “Kiss me,” she ordered, not sure what else to say to him.

In response, Castiel lifted up on his knees over her, pressing his mouth against her neck before lifting his head to look down at her. His fingers tightened on her legs when he saw that look in her eyes that was so familiar. He’d not seen it from another in years and there was something about it that made his stomach clench. She was looking at him as if he was meant for her and she needed him no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

He didn’t hesitate any longer. He bent his head and kissed her with all the force he could find, cupping her face and holding her still. His mouth nudged her lips further apart, tongue plunging past her lips, and in answer she ran her hand up his back, digging her nails into his skin. She felt the way he hissed and groaned, shifting until his legs twined with hers. When he moved his mouth away, her eyes searched his face and he shuddered as he felt her feet slipping up his legs. Losing his balance, he carefully lay against her and felt her nip at his ear.

Her head bent to his shoulder as she rubbed against him, wet to his hard, and he let his face rest in her hair. Castiel breathed in the smell of soap, demon, and sex, and dug his fingers into the pillow under her head. Slowly Meg’s hand slid down his stomach, palming his cock through his jeans.

His hips jerked forward towards her and Meg chuckled again, bracing up on her elbows. Castiel shifted backward, winching in embarrassment at his own reaction, but she held on gently, putting her mouth to the curve of his shoulder as she sat up with him. His fingers went to her hair, holding gently as she slid her hand beneath his jeans and grasped him. The cold of her hand should have turned him off but all he could do was push himself towards her grip.

"So you learned something," Meg muttered against his chest and he felt her teeth graze his skin again. Castiel’s eyes opened and he stared down at the top of her head. Meg’s fingers turned warm touching his skin.

"Does that upset you?" he asked. She leaned up and kissed his neck, hearing each groan he made as he continued to make short thrusts against her hand.

"Should it?" she asked but he heard the slight hardness in her voice. "You’re trying to overthink this, Castiel."

"I’m…" When her wrist twisted and her hand tightened on the hard flesh it gripped, he made a low choking sound. "Not."

"It matters to you, Cas." She tilted her head down and her hair slithered over her shoulders, framing her face in darkness. "Why? Worried that I’m going to stop?"

"No." He had his eyes shut. 

"Worried that I might not?" Her breath was suddenly against his mouth and his eyes opened to see her only inches away. She was still stroking him with knowing, long caresses that had him wanting more. But the hesitation she saw in his eyes made her smile and she let him go completely. "Been three years, remember? Don’t be such a…"

Castiel grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in again, stifling her mocking laughter with his mouth. Her chuckling as he pushed her onto her back was almost infuriating and he kissed her deeper to try to stop the sound. The sound faded into a moan as he gently pried her mouth apart with his fingers. He felt her hands sliding up and down his back again, travelling over the waistband of his pants. Groaning into the kiss, he met Meg’s tongue with his and his hands tangled into her hair, knotting it a little in his fingers.

When Castiel heard the jingle of his belt being undone completely, the leather being drawn through the loops with a low slither, he stopped kissing her and looked down between them, where her hands held both sides of his belt. She tugged hard and his body followed, landing so firmly between her legs that she moaned and arched herself towards him. The invitation was clear and he blinked as she began to unbutton him, her legs tangled around his to keep him still. His brain cleared a little when he remembered the last time they’d tried this. He remembered exactly what had happened and why, how it had actually hurt his pride a little. 

Stroking his hand down her arm to remove it from his waist, he abruptly sat up and zipped his pants again. Meg pushed herself up, her swollen mouth half-parted in shock when he rolled off of her. Just as out of breath, Castiel stared at her mouth and had to shake himself.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Meg demanded.

Struggling to hide his erection, he stood up and held his hands to the side. “It’s okay.”

"Oh, you are not going to leave."

“I’ll be back,” Castiel said before zapping out of the room.

Meg could only stare at the empty space where he had been lying against her, her arms holding nothing but air now. “Damn it, Cas.” 

Every part of her felt slick with sweat and desire now. Even moving her legs apart and touching herself didn’t help ease the lust pounding through her body, she still wanted him so. Her entire body was so edge that she turned over onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow, groaning as her body tried to come back down. As sated as she should have been from his teasing mouth, she wanted more and when she squeezed her thighs together it gave her another shock of pleasure.

Moaning, she sank her teeth into the pillow and pounded her fist into the mattress.

This constant interruption was killing her and, for a second, she felt another sliver of doubt.

_Too fast, you know. He’s going to run because of how fast this is going. Wouldn’t blame him._

But all she had to do was remember how he’d looked lying against her and she was sure that it hadn’t been the wrong choice. He had nearly radiated lust for her, the demon thought logically. Maybe he’d gone to sit on a block of ice or something. She nearly laughed at the thought. Or whatever it was that he did to get himself under control.

It was only a minute longer before she heard something move in the room and turned over a little, half-expecting an attack. A hand gripped her ankle and flipped her over completely, drawing her legs over a pair of lean shoulders. Her eyes fluttered shut as a familiar rough pair of lips pressed a warm kiss against the inside of her thigh, a tongue flicking out to taste her wetness before leaving her just as quickly. Castiel’s mouth was on hers before she could gasp out his name, his arm circling around her waist to draw her upward before he braced over her on the bed. Her legs fell about his hips and she groaned at the feeling of his body over hers.

“Where-” She had to pulled back as he almost seemed ready to devour her but he kissed her again to stop her talking. Each time she tried to speak, his mouth simply chased hers and captured it. Eventually, she reached up and pushed his head back. Castiel’s eyes stayed on her mouth when she licked her lips.

“Where did you get to? Left me high and not so dry,” Meg commented with a grin.

To prove her point, she let her one hand go between her legs. He followed the movement, eyes widening a little before he looked up again.

With an almost innocent shrug, he tossed a box of condoms onto the night stand and Meg turned her head to stare at it, eyebrows arched. Castiel pressed his mouth against her breast and then turned away completely. Even when he threw his pants and boxers over the box, it was hard not to stare and think about him leaving, half-naked, to get them. 

"You left in the middle of sex to get those?" she asked, turning her attention back to the angel. "You’re serious?"

"Incredibly," Castiel answered. She started to laugh, unable to help it, and Castiel gave an exasperated sound as he put his mouth against her exposed neck. He began to kiss a trail down to her breasts again, moving slowly with each kiss. Her skin seemed to prickle alive under the heat of his tongue and her eyes drooped shut as she relaxed again. The hand stroking her body followed each slope and rise of her curves, before sliding between her thighs again. Meg gave a startled moan, letting her legs open wider as he stroked her to feel the slickness he’d caused. 

"You’re sure we should do this?" he asked against her breast and Meg grinned.

"Yeah. Better late than—" her breath hitched as he pressed his thumb against her clit, "-never."

He made a sound like a groan and a curse, and eased his hand away from her. The crinkle of plastic wrapper made her snicker though she didn’t look at what he was doing. When she felt him give her an admonishing grunt and bite against her nipple, she did laugh and opened her eyes.

“Condoms, huh?” she asked as Castiel pulled away to put one on. He did it with such focus that it was hard not to snicker again, but he seemed so earnest over it. She kept an eyebrow arched as she watched and he met her smirk with a serious frown. 

“You said you didn’t want to fall pregnant if it was possible and I…”

“Don’t want a repeat of last time?” Meg finished, trying to keep the mood light, and he moved further up onto her body to nuzzle at her neck. Her hips rolled a little as he stroked down her sides to cup her hips and lift her a little. She felt the calluses on his palm, rough against her softness, as he ran his hand harder over her buttocks.

“This is already nothing like that last time.” He waited for her to look at him. “Nothing compares to how I feel with you, here and now.” 

Her arms went around his shoulders when he slowly pulled back so she sat astride his lap. Meg slid her legs around his hips, adjusting herself just enough that he barely had to move before he sank deep into her. She made soft sound as tense muscles finally relaxed but she didn’t try to move away. There was no anger this time, only a strange sense of welcome as her body wrapped around his. Wet softness and heat greeted him, and the demon lowered her head against his shoulder. The soft sigh against his neck made Castiel smile, fingers curling around her hips to hold her close.

"I missed you," he murmured against her shoulder, letting her rock against him. Meg groaned a little, teeth grazing over his neck, and he shuddered again. His arms lifted her up so that she settled more fully on top of him and he felt her legs tightening around his waist. His hands moved up her back, stroking through her hair as she ground herself against him. He heard Meg almost whimper when they began to move closer together, her nails dragging gently over his shoulders.

Even though they should have been moving harder or faster, for all the passion he felt brewing inside of her, he could only hold her tighter and kiss her mouth whenever her head turned. Keeping her still suddenly felt good; she trembled with the want to move and he enjoyed the way her fingers clutched at him. Feeling her want to be with him was something he had missed.

It was what he needed.

He was trying for another kiss when her mouth pulled back just a little, just enough that he missed the pressure of her mouth on his.

“Meg,” Castiel muttered, frustrated by her evading him.

Meg brushed his hair away from his forehead as he stared at her and he saw her eyes flicker to black as she watched him. Grace brushed against thorns over and over again, and she seemed to wait for him to say something. He barely could hide his relief when she leaned down to lick and nip at his neck, her arms still wound around his shoulders. He pushed up at her again as she pulled back, hearing the hiss she made as he sank deeper inside of her again. Moving her hair out of her face, he watched her smile a little before she lowered her head to kiss his mouth again.

“I love you,” he said just before her lips touched his.

The kiss forgotten, Meg pulled back a little to study him. The words hung in the air as they had three years ago. Three years ago when he had first uttered them to her, at a time when he hadn’t realized what it could mean to love a demon, and he watched the way her eyes went back to brown. 

He looked away, knowing he had exposed himself again to more pain and rejection. “Nothing changed that.”

Her hand took his chin and turned his head so he had to look at her. Meg stared into his eyes and held his gaze, for once losing the sarcastic twist to her lips. With a solemn expression, she stroked her hand over his face, fingers sliding over his cheek and down his neck to grazing the tiny scar on his throat. The scar that had been from the moment the Metatron had stolen his Grace and he felt her nail trace its tiny edges. Castiel was aware of his heart banging hard in his chest as she continued her slow study of his face and neck.

Eventually, she shook her head and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, hearing his breath come in fast. “I know, Clarence,” she whispered.

Leaning down, she sank into his embrace, her forehead pushing against his a little. Relief made him turn her beneath him on the bed, still murmuring comforting words against her skin as Meg moved with him. Her arms went tight around his back as she pulled him down onto her and he felt her accepting him as her legs moved to wind around his hips before locking behind his thighs. Castiel shuddered as she turned her head a bit so that her mouth was no longer touching his. 

He felt the moment become tense as something that had been coiling in his body began to need her more. Her hips rocked up at him and she pushed him up a little so she could get him to move into her harder. Reaching over her head, he gripped the bed’s headboard so that it wouldn’t slap against the wall as he followed her rhythm. Meg’s eyes were shut, clearly enjoying herself as she stroked over his abdomen and chest while he moved against her. The slight way her face tightened and her hips lifted to meet his thrusts let him know how she wanted him to move and he moved to lay against her, tucking her leg up beneath his arm so he could move deeper into her. 

It changed suddenly; something soft and nearly affectionate that was becoming rough and far more fierce as Meg’s arms wrapped around his neck. Hearing her startled cry against his ear, he listened to the way her breath exhaled out against his ear, the way she said his name when he lifted his head to kiss her. Castiel closed his eyes to memorize how that felt again. How her mouth tasted just before she cried out his name again in muffled sounds.

Her nails raked through his hair and Meg rocked her hips up to him, her body tightening around him. Lowering his head to her shoulder, he thrust harder into her as he felt her legs stroke up and down his own, and he trapped her teasing hands in his to pin them overhead, trying to hold on.

He didn’t want this to end. Not yet. It couldn’t end yet….

Meg’s gasping moans in his ear that she wanted him to come, that she wanted  _him_ , was what unwound him completely. Heat and desire exploded through him and he cried out against her neck again, giving only a few more thrusts as he came. He barely registered how bruising his grip on her hands became or how she gave another cry and gasp of pleasure as his jagged thrusts were able to tip her over the brink of orgasm with him again.

Heaving for breath and slick with sweat, Castiel slumped on top of Meg and his body almost throbbed in time with hers. Making low sounds, the demon moved body beneath his, rocking up and down as if to slowly calm him down. Turning his head, he found her mouth again and kissed her, still so deep inside of her that he felt the aftershocks starting through her body again when his tongue grazed hers. Her legs stayed wrapped around his, trapping him against her, and he let her hands go to slip his arms around her body. He hugged her close and continued to kiss her as his heartbeat struggled to slow. 

When Castiel finally lifted his mouth away from hers, she was staring at him. Her fingers tracked over the indent of his spine, and he let his head fall forward to her shoulder. Meg said nothing, simply tucked her face against his neck and sighed.

He moved to hold her tighter. An irrational worry that she was going to leave him still tugged at him within and he had no intention of letting her go. His arms curved around her damp body and Castiel smelt the sweat, sulphur, and soap on her skin as he rested his head beside hers. Meg’s hands stopped stroking his back and came to rest around his shoulders so that he soon lay with all of his weight on top of her body.

Castiel realized, much later, that Meg had held him with the same tight possessiveness he had held her with.

 


	10. Thaw (When Angels Rest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The tentative truce between Castiel and Meg continues as they hide from the hunters and monsters. With Azazel and Eve both looking for them, the plan they set into motion keeps their enemies distracted. Growing restless, Dean has an unusual visit that makes him more determined to protect Sam and those he considers family.

' _Their enemies came and went. Angels and demons, witches and monsters, who cared? The Winchesters had faced them all. Dean knew what he was meant to do. In the end, he knew it would come down to family. It always was about family.'_

Chuck tapped his arrow key again and again, watching the cursor slowly make its way over the document with those lines. He highlighted them, italicized and bolded them, even changed the font six times, as he stared at his screen and chewed over the best way to go on. These six lines had been written weeks ago and were still begging for a continuation. After deleting his last attempt, all except for those lines, he had sat at his desk from dusk until dawn for the past four weeks with nothing to show for it.

No epic story lines, no way of having Dean and Sam find a way to end the coming wars, or to find a way understand and protect each other. Even the angel and demon, even the new characters he'd brought in were not giving him any more inspiration. He wasn't even completely certain what to do with that little girl he kept seeing in his visions. Whenever he tried to manipulate the story, to play a trick, something kept him from writing about the blue-eyed girl in such a way. All of these characters and he was stalled. Monsters? Those were easy; he always had ways of making new monsters, but now he just didn't know what to do with such powerful creatures. Maybe he'd made them a bit too powerful.

That didn't change one big problem.

He was thoroughly stuck.

"Writer's block, you have to be goddamn kidding me. Writing's hard but this is just getting ridiculous," he mumbled to himself before pounding on random keys all at once as if hoping he would magically come up with some sentences that would make sense. When a mess of letters stared back at him, he groaned and clicked off the text file and checked his email for the twentieth time since he'd woken up this evening. Not the best distraction right now. Threats from publishers that he owed one last book in his contract, cajoling ego boosts from his new agent about how perfect his other writing was, and even one from poor Anya who was in hiding. At least, that's what he had imagined her to have left for; she had told him it was family troubles.

Then he scrolled down to forum messages off of his fan website and read it with increasing discomfort. Threats from people for his latest book, from fans demanding he finish the book series a certain way, love from those who just wanted more adventures, and even a few criticisms. The usual but today it rubbed his already shaky nerves raw.

Three years ago Chuck had once again been God, calmly in charge of a universe of his creating. Reawakened to power and knowledge. He had been creating and loving every moment of this new story and this new world he was just seeing glimpses of. Until that moment when the doors had slammed shut and left his imagination stagnant.

Now he was back to being what he'd been: a surly writer who wasn't sure about what he was writing and more than a little incomplete after forcing his hand. After Sheol had closed the gates to the Lethe there had been a resonating ache. He missed her, he would say whenever he was coherent enough to admit it. Not that anyone would care; even to Chuck she was a vague memory, a haunting ghost that lingered just at the corner of his mind and made him ache. He lost himself in imaginary worlds he thought he could completely control in his writing, drank himself into stupors for the sake of boredom, and had even taken enough medication for his headaches to be stoned at the best of his days.

He'd laughingly said to his therapist that his characters had moved on but he hadn't.

A new message suddenly dinged in his computer and he stared at the bolded subject line thoughtfully. He did recognize the sender. Few enough people had his real email and this wasn't even sent to his personal website.

"So, Kevin, what do you have for me now?" he asked, rubbing at his dry lips for a second before clicking.

The video link was of hunters, discussing the best way to hunt something they didn't know about, and the camera's position meant it had been done secretively. He watched, heard the name Winchester and then Cambion, and his ears perked up. A Cambion? That meant…

" _It's not a Cambion, really," a skinny young man said._ " _I don't know what you'd call the kid."_

" _We should kill it," a heavier man said and the teenager beside him nodded._

" _We don't go killing kids," Skinny snapped. "Ever."_

" _Why are the Winchesters putting up with it then? You said they were taking care of it."_

" _They are the best at this. Back off and let them handle it. Go hunt Wendigo in Texas. Leave this to the Winchesters."_

_The heavy man poked Skinny in the chest. "They'd better, Garth. We got screwed over by them and their angel friends enough. I'm not speaking for the others. You don't find new monsters to hunt that often; they'll see it as a challenge."_

" _Leave it alone."_

The video feed clicked off and Chuck shrugged. "Don't see what that has to do with me."

He read the rest of the email. Kevin wanted to know how many more visions he'd have to suffer through, incomplete and twisted as they were, before Chuck would finally step in. The writer leaned back, scratching at his chin. Poor kid. Hadn't really been prepared for what he was. There'd been a few hopeful moments over the past few years but now it looked like Kevin was hurting again.

Despite what the kid thought, the Winchesters were good for him.

Chuck knew everything that had happened to Kevin thanks to the strange connection between them from years ago. His mother, the demons, the depression he was sinking into; all of it was like a nagging thought that he kept in the corner of his mind to be dealt with later.

Settling his weight back on his chair, Chuck read the last lines of ' _would it kill you to help for once?'_ over and over again. It was obvious what Kevin was accusing him of. Chuck sighed and leaned his head back.

So easy to imagine soft hands going into his hair, soothing his anger as low words woke him up and forced him to think. Forced him to regret what had been necessary to save this world that he had loved more than most.

"I did what I had to do," Chuck said, opening his eyes to stare at his computer screen. He brushed his hand over his cheeks, stunned to feel tear tracks on them. He'd saved this precious creation but it didn't change something that had haunted him for all this time.

He missed _her_.

* * *

"Are you awake?"

The low voice rumbled in Meg's ear, a scratchy, familiar sound that was almost lazy, but all she did was continue to breathe deeply and ignore it a little. But the cold air of the room was already starting to intrude on that pleasant dozy feeling and set her skin tingling. Grumbling under her breath, she bumped herself back into the warmth that rested against her, felt an arm wrap around her waist and hold her as a scruffy cheek pressed to her shoulder.

Groggily, she stretched her legs a little, toes brushing hair-roughened legs as she sought more heat. That rumbling groan behind her sounded just as lazy as she felt. She reached down and brought the arm even closer around her, as if wrapping herself up in that warmth he was radiating.

Meg opened her eyes and stared at the worn old radiator curiously as it was something strange because for a moment she hadn't believed she could actually sleep again. Even when her demon side had been hidden, she had never really slept, chalking it up to insomnia. As a demon, it was rarer still. The realization that she had truly slept for the first time in years was so sudden that her eyes widened a bit though her body was still mostly asleep.

It was almost like three years ago, lying under a skylight and actually realizing how good it was to sleep.

Even her body felt heavy and listless, and it was almost blissful to close her eyes and drift off again. Muttering for him to let her sleep, she turned onto her stomach and sighed. It would be easy to just lie here and forget everything for a while longer, before the dreams and memories started invading her peace and quiet. She could use some quiet, she thought.

Then Meg felt rough lips travelling over her shoulder blades in slow hot trails. The rasp of a tongue peeking out, the feel of hands sliding up over her back, was enough to set her skin tingling. Moaning, she arched her back in a slow stretch that let her feel the press of him against her buttocks.

"You're awake. I knew it," Castiel murmured as his hands massaged her muscles, dipping beneath her to caress her breasts. His breath brushed over her ear and she turned her head towards the contact. "I was watching you."

"Making sure I don't run again again?"

He grumbled against her skin. "I missed you. Allow me that."

Meg didn't answer, enjoying the way his touch was steadily putting her asleep again. He nuzzled her neck, whispered nonsensical musings to her about how they should do something else, how it had been a few hours and everything was too quiet.

For once she let herself enjoy his muttering as she rested under him. It felt good to feel his breath brush over her skin as he settled more fully on her. The angel's body was incredibly warm and it was making her head swim a little as he stretched over her, letting her take a bit more of his weight. Eventually, he huffed and stopped talking, his hands still lingering beneath her body. Eyes barely able to open, Meg reached back and stroked the head now resting over her shoulder.

"Since when did you turn into a large lap-cat?" she asked as she lightly scraped her nails against his scalp.

"Mm." Castiel made a mock growl sound that had her chuckling before she could stop herself and his head nudged under her arm. He twisted and stretched, pushing up beneath her and the bed until she was half-sprawled onto him and his head was on the pillow. Propping her chin up on his chest, she saw that his eyes were shut and his breathing was even as if he was sound asleep.

"Liar," she whispered and his eyes opened a little to give her a look. "Do you even really sleep?"

"I slept when I was human. But I still like to pretend that it gives me peace. For a while sleep was—" He shuddered and she felt his arm move around her waist and tighten. "— all I had to block everything out when it became too much."

Meg kept silent and pushed closer into his body. With the lamplight on, she could see in shadowy patches what time had changed between them. She realized for the first time what the roughness was on his chest; there was smooth skin but there were patches that rasped against her breasts and hands. Scars from battles, she figured as she used her fingers to trace the gun shot wounds, knife slashes, bite marks from monsters, and even the raised ridges of the Enochian tattoo on his side. All of those marks decorated his vessel the way her own scars decorated her trueself. Time as a human hadn't been any kinder to him than it had been to her.

But rather than comment she simply brushed her mouth over his chest, letting her tongue touch the indenture of his collarbone, before she tucked in tighter.

His other arm went around her waist and reached down to cup her hip.

"You don't have to pretend to sleep," Castiel muttered. "You…"

"Forgot what it was like having a ginormous angel body pillow," Meg finished. She swung a leg over his hip and stretched out over him from toe to head. It was a sensuous sort of movement that made her feel all the good aches from the hours before, and it made his breath quicken when she rubbed against him. "Not too heavy?"

"Though I doubt you would move if you were, you feel very light," he admitted and she felt his nose brush her hair, felt him inhale. His breathing deepened again and her eyelids drooped as she lay curled on his body, hearing the steady beat of his heart pounding through his chest. Just beneath that steady _thud-thump_ was the hum of Grace as it rose up next to her own self and rested against that thorn-laden darkness as if it belonged next to her.

As if she belonged here.

That she had her first peace in years lying here with him didn't escape her.

"It's nice just to lie here and not worry about the world coming to an end," Castiel said suddenly, the echo of his voice through his chest loud in her ear. His hand was travelling up and down her skin in slow, seductive caresses, before it paused to push a little on the small of her back so her belly nudged into him more. Opening one eye, she gave his face a wry look that knew exactly what he was up to. Meg reached up and patted his face with absent affection.

"It's not a bad thing at all," she admitted. She felt his lower lip against her thumb, traced the warm wet softness of his mouth before she pulled it away. "Let a girl get some rest, Clarence."

Castiel didn't answer but slid his hand down her back to pull the sheet up over her so she was wrapped up with him. After a few minutes, she felt his breathing even out underneath her. She yawned bfeore slowly falling asleep again.

* * *

It was a few hours later when the sound of a truck blaring its horn angrily and some men from the bar began to fight in the parking lot completely destroyed the peace and quiet of the small motel. The noise woke her up in increments, from a nightmare about a place where she was drowned in forgetfulness to place where all that was left was a pleasant sexual ache. Saved from the weight of that dream, she groaned and reached over blindly. She felt the still warm bed space, the imprint of a body that had been beside her, but no living flesh met her touch. Rolling onto her back, Meg finally looked up at the ceiling. It was unusual not to think that there may be something wrong, for her body not to be on edge to leap up. She was so used to running still.

Digging her toes into the blankets, the demon closed her eyes as she reached down and touched the space between her breasts.

She could feel the faint ridge of knife cuts from Crowley, Lucifer, and then the leftover ridge of where Azazel had stabbed her. For some reason, those three times had left behind small marks, serving as a reminder what happened when she let her guard down too much. Meg turned her hand over and dug her nails into her own skin, until the fading scars pinched and pulled painfully.

It almost felt good like this, as the tiny sting was helping her prove it was real.

Her wandering hand brushed the faint red marks left by Castiel's stubble and a bruise left by his mouth, and she lingered on the imprint. She must have slept deeply enough that she hadn't felt him leave and she thought he would have stayed. Biting into her lower lip, Meg turned her head to the side and looked around the room.

No Castiel waiting around like an angelic guard.

_Where was he?_

Shoving down that strange disappointment, she groaned and rolled back over to push herself up onto her knees, glancing at the side table. Castiel's angel sword was gone, so was his clothing, but the bags of supplies were there. Meg glanced through the curtains at the still dark sky and the falling snow and wondered where he would have gone. Debating on calling Castiel, or even going out to find him, the demon shrugged and gave up. He'd come back when he wanted, she thought, ignoring the doubt.

She grabbed her clothes from the floor as she made her way to the bathroom, tripping over her own feet as her sore muscles protested how fast she moved.

Even a hot shower didn't really wake her up, only highlighted each and every sore muscle from the night before. The marks from Adam's fangs were still pink and healing but the pain was gone, leaving her with only phantom aches that made her long for bed and an angel again.

When the water finally ran ice cold down her back, she stepped out and eventually caught sight of herself in the mirror as she dressed. She stopped midway through zipping up her jeans and stared at her reflection for a while. Murmuring in Latin, she watched as the youthful woman who looked back at her abruptly faded into a twisted mockery of what she once been, the darker skin marred by grey scarring and twisted angles. Hideous and tortured in appearance, a manifestation of everything that had been done in Hell.

Meg drew devil horns on the mirror, carefully sketching in the condensation as if it was true art.

With a horrible sense of humour, she bared her teeth and watched as the meatsuit and the demon almost blended perfectly together. Chuckling at her mirror twin, she swiped her hand through the reflection and turned away to finish dressing. Not for the first time, she wondered at how Castiel and even Nyx had seen past the meatsuit to see this creature and found something worthy.

Aware of the shower running, Castiel materialized back into the room and nervously eyed the rumpled bed as he made his way to the bathroom. He put his hand on the door, imagined he could feel the heat and her presence in there, and debated on going into see if she was done. But the squeak of the faucets and her low muttering let him know she was fine and he turned away to take a seat. He set the bag from the restaurant on the table, smelled the overwhelming odours of greasy food and sat down in the old armchair by the bed.

Earlier when she'd fallen into the heavy doze again, he'd stayed beside her.

It had felt so strange to be there, staring at her face. He had seen the twisted creature under the pretty meatsuit and he had let his Grace touch it. Her power had growled at him, nipped at him with dark thorns that caused him to ache. But he loved her, her darkness and her trueself, and his power and hers stopped fighting long enough to allow him to relax.

Eventually, she had simply tucked even further into his arms and slept on. When he'd pushed her hair away and smoothed his hands over her body, she hadn't woken up but he could feel her contentment. He'd waited, watching her rest with that thoughtful stare, before he had decided it was time to check the surroundings.

Without any sign of monsters or demons, he had gone to buy something to eat, wanting to seem 'normal' to the humans around. The manager he had spoken to earlier was still on shift, and when he had passed him he had given Castiel that lecherous look he had had before. As if he knew exactly what had happened between them and Castiel had, as discreetly as possible, avoided his look with a shyness he hadn't felt in years.

When the bathroom door opened, he put his hands on the arm of the chair and leaned forward a bit. He tried so hard not to appear eager that he betrayed it in the way his body tightened and his breathing went shallow.

Meg spotted him the instant she came out, her hair already half-dried in long waves around her shoulders. She stopped, bare feet skidding on the tile, and cocked her head on the side. He smiled a little in greeting, and she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. There was a strange nervousness in her he hadn't seen before and he leaned a bit further, debating on going to her.

"Where'd you go?" she asked. One eyebrow lifted as he picked up the bag of food.

"I brought you something," he broke off as she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it at him, "to eat."

"I'm a demon, remember? Don't need to eat," Meg drawled as she unbuckled her jeans again and turned away from him to turn off the lights. He watched as she shucked her jeans off hard, so they made a solid thump against the wall, and spun away from him.

Determined to keep calm, he opened the bag. "You could be hungry."

She grinned over her shoulder at him before she stretched slowly. She was highlighted in the glow of the lamp; Castiel felt his mouth go dry just watching her, not sure what she wanted him to do. He swallowed as he watched the play of light over her and cleared his throat noisily. Giving a satisfied groan, Meg flicked her hair back and turned towards him. Slowly, she started to back away from him as if daring him to move and follow her.

"Not for food, Cas."

"Right," he muttered, tossing the bag back onto the table and getting up. He didn't miss her smug look as he quickly undressed and watched her take her place on the bed. Naked, Meg lay on her stomach and stretched again to grip the bed-frame. Her eyes shut and she sighed, waiting as she heard him turn the heat back on and check the wards before joining her. When he finally crawled up over her, mouth brushing the back of her neck and hands slowly pulling her up so that he could touch her, she chuckled.

"Haven't changed that much, have you? Still a sucker for the visual."

His teeth sank in a little to cause her to groan. "Is that a problem?

"Mm, hell no."

* * *

The bunker's outside was still pristine, a hole in the side of the hill and almost camouflaged completely from normal sight. Plants and overgrowth simply helped it, the almost natural smell of the woods even hiding the faint smells of gas and humans. But Azazel knew they were there. He stood beneath the trees across the road, his eyes yellow and swirling with anger and hate. The monsters that should have been here, searching for the Winchesters, were already gone; pulled away by the smells of angels and demons, by the feel of a storm making its way across the Midwest. They were so simple.

He couldn't even call demons to him or chance the angels. They wouldn't come anyway. He was alone on both sides of that coin.

Azazel had considered going to Hell, winning back the rule that he had held for centuries but after all this time he wasn't that stupid. Abaddon and Crowley ruled together, likely Abaddon, even a Knight such as her, was someone he wouldn't trifle with lightly though Crowley just needed the right push. Now that the monsters had been kicked from Hell then they would be on guard for anyone new. Loyalties in demons were strong but Azazel knew that the best way to keep that loyalty was from fear. He'd been gone long enough that he would bet an exorbitant amount of souls that the demons had learned to fear more than just him.

That was more than a little irritating.

Azazel always had worked best alone. Adopting Meg and Tom as his seconds had alleviated the burden of his missions a little, even for a time, even though he had frequently sent them back to Hell for 're-education'. It had been done, so he told them, out of love. They had had to learn. He enjoyed the machinations of his own family, enjoyed watching what he put into play as it unfolded and tore lives apart.

The fallen always did enjoy that. Centuries had gone by with that sort of entertainment.

Until the Winchester brothers. Maybe he should have seen that coming; he remembered the start of loyalty showing in Meg and seen how a demon would protect her family for loyalty and love against hunters. There wasn't much difference when you took away morality and the crimes they committed. But Sam Winchester had done exactly as he was meant to do, as had Dean Winchester, and his own children hadn't. Technically, Sam and the utter corruption of the Winchesters and Campbells had been his greatest accomplishment.

It wasn't _his_ fault that his Father had underestimated them.

"Seems like a new thing though. Winchesters, monsters, demons, angels; all working as one big happy family. Things were so much simpler years ago," Azazel muttered, lifting his hand towards the door as if he was going to push on it despite the distance. He focussed his power and immediately felt the push from the wards painted on the doorway, coded so only Castiel could get through. Gritting his teeth, he forced his telekinesis to push a little harder. The repulsion there was strong, sending shockwaves of pain through his arms until he was numb and he had to give up.

Rolling his eyes, Azazel looked up at the sky and debated on what to do next.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the door swung open and Sam Winchester came out, looking right and then left. He held his hand to his ear, speaking into a cellphone as he made his way to the Impala where it was parked in the distance under a cover. Azazel sprang to his feet; he still wore their bastard brother's face, it would be easy to confuse Sam even more.

Be even easier to make it so Sam couldn't get too far before being bait.

The child and Dean Winchester would be easy prey. Following them, Meg and Castiel.

But before Azazel could move more than a few steps something snared inside of him and held him. It felt remarkably like being snared in a devil's trap but the sensation in his hands was foreign. As if he could feel them but not move them.

His eyes shone blue instead of yellow as Michael regained control inch by inch of the body. "No," his voice in this body was more monotone, holding him steady. The demon retreated under the force of that Grace.

"You don't have a choice, not with the way we are." Azazel's own voice, cool and smooth as a snake, was echoed by the way his darkness curled around inside of the vessel. Michael's Grace and angelic presence was almost choked out by the way it coiled around them.

"My Father didn't want this to happen, he told me," Michael answered. Azazel's sudden anger was nearly tangible at his words. With a roar in his ears, Michael felt it twisting the body around and into a tree. To anyone who could have seen it, he would have just run into the tree on his own. His nose broke at the impact but Grace simply healed it instantaneously, and Michael shook his head as he regained control.

"Your Father abandoned you. Let Castiel destroy you as an Archangel. You're nothing but a simple angel now, with your true Grace locked away with _my_ Father." Azazel snapped a wrist bone just to anger the other being in this body and Michael's head turned a little. He shook his hand and everything set itself to rights again. "Or did you forget how he abandoned you? How Sheol cast us out of the Lethe then? For fun?"

"I didn't forget," Michael answered as he healed the damage as quickly as Azazel was causing it to the body. "But this isn't the way."

"How would you know? You've never done it this way. Felt a child's hot blood on your hands, living heartbeats fading under your hands."

Michael was silent for a while, though he didn't allow Azazel to take control again.

"I have."

He could feel the demon's surprise within him.

"I am an angel of the Lord. The things I have done, demon, would surprise even you. All for the sake of His Love."

"And was it worth it?" Azazel hissed, trying to regain control. The angel had slept, uncaring, once it became clear he had no power or interest yet. But when Azazel had changed tactics, Michael had woken up. Lingering always inside of him. Waiting.

Apparently given strength when they were so close to where the bunker was, to where his true vessel was.

"I'm not sure yet," Michael answered. "But we're not doing this."

Like a serpent, he felt that demon that rode alongside his Grace slither through, turning his eyes from blue to a muted amber. "We will, Michael. Soon."

* * *

_Someone stood outside her new home, waiting for her and for her family. Ready to tear them apart and take her from them. She felt that cold power and the way it settled in terrifying fog around her, making her dreams of sunshine and waves plummet into nightmares of darkness and ice._

Nyx woke up with a startled cry, the blanket she was wrapped up in tumbling off. She rolled around in her bed, snatched up her stuffed unicorn, and cuddled it close as she dove beneath her other comforter. Sniffling down her tears, she scrubbed at her face and bit into her lower lip hard enough that it stung. She pressed her face against Clarence's soft worn body and tried to stop crying. The dark room was scary; shadows and bad monsters were waiting to gobble her up she was sure. Dean had closed the room up so there was no light except for silvers of light under the door and she hated being in the darkness; she'd just been too scared to ask for a light.

She wanted so badly to find her mother but she had promised to stay here. Nyx didn't like breaking promises.

Slipping out of bed and wrapping herself up her blanket, Nyx padded to the door and cracked it open. She could hear the melodic notes of music from the other rooms, low rock humming out but she didn't hear voices. She nudged Clarence a bit tighter under her arm, hitched her comforter up close, and quickly crossed over to Sam's room.

When she saw his empty bed, she sniffled again and tried not to burst into tears.

Nyx felt more fear being alone in the bunker than she had even when _they_ had left her here.

She felt something protective embrace her slowly, as if the blanket was growing warmer.

 _Go see Dean, Nyx,_ one of her friends whispered.

With a nod to her imaginary friends, she ran for his room and quickly opened the door, peeking in. Though still dressed in his day clothing, Dean was asleep, propped up against the headboard as his record player began to skip and scratch against the vinyl.

Nyx set Clarence down on the bed and walked over to the player, looking at the knobs and needle curiously. For some reason she remembered this, a very fuzzy memory that hurt a bit to think about. Delicately, she reached out to the needle and lifted it before setting it back down into one of the record's well-worn grooves. She smiled in delight as the music picked up again, a low hum building, but Dean didn't stir. Nyx couldn't read exactly what the words were on the back of the album cover, but she knew she'd heard this song before.

With the same care she would have shown Clarence, she tucked Dean in beside her stuffed toy and then settled in under his arm. With Sam gone she knew she needed protection against her bad dreams. Dean simply slept on, oblivious to the small child who leaned against him and listened to the starting notes of old rock music playing on the low stereo. Nyx's eyes drooped close as she heard his heartbeat and the music carrying the same steady rhythm, and hoped he could keep the scary monsters away.

* * *

—

_Dean curved his fingers lovingly over the steering wheel. He let it slide back and forth as he corrected the angle and the Impala almost purred as she coasted over the road. The sleek black car ran like a dream when the weather was nice. Though God knew Dean loved his little brother, sometimes being alone and driving quiet miles with nothing but the purring engine and the rumble of the Impala's suspension taking the cement highway was his favourite time. He knew this car, loved it and loved how at home he felt in it. The way he could sink back in the seats was liking sitting in the comfiest couch to him._

_It was a gorgeous day to be out; all crisp late autumn air and bright colours._

_Therefore, it had to be a dream._

_Still, he was happy to lean back in his seat and let the car carry him through the twist and turns. Miles after miles, Led Zeppelin playing, Good Times Bad Times rolling through in harmony with the way he would occasionally rev the engine. Funny, he didn't remember turning on the radio._

" _You do love this car. I still can see why. She's a home, a place of protection." The female voice, low and almost tentative, snapped him out of his pleasant drive. The radio seemed to turn itself down and he glanced over quickly, his breathing deepening to control his surprise._

_Sitting on the passenger side was a thin redhead whose incredibly long fingers were clenched tight onto her thighs, her ethereal beauty made almost more unreal by the light radiating from her. As if drawn, she looked at him and Dean looked at her. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little._

" _Definitely dreaming," he muttered. He forced himself to relax his death grip on the steering wheel. "Hello, Anna. Haven't seen you in my dreams in ages."_

_She smiled at him, her lower lip trembling a little. Dean gave the front window a smirk that was as cold and cruel as he could manage._

" _Haven't seen you since Michael toasted you up."_

_The smile faded and her eyes half-closed in the sort of glare that chilled him. "Never questioned that, did you?"_

" _You were going to kill my family." Dean remembered that too vividly in that hellish year when he, Sam, and Castiel had fought so hard to save the world._

" _And the fact that all I had done, all I had lost to help you, it meant nothing to you. Why would it? I'd been tortured, driven to the brink, no less than what happened to Castiel and yet you granted him forgiveness." She looked out at the fall foliage. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It must be so nice to pick and choose who earns the famous Winchester forgiveness. Not that it is worth much. My brother is still an outcast from his own home."_

_Saying nothing, Dean instead turned his music off and kept the car moving as smoothly as before. Anna rode in silence beside him, and eventually he couldn't help but look at her once he was on a straightway. Her skin was still perfectly pale, complimenting her fiery hair, but there were patches of scar tissue on her neck. Burn marks were criss-crossed down to her collarbone, shining and purplish in colour. But she looked remarkably the same and he wondered if it was his head playing tricks with him._

" _So," he cleared his throat, "why are you here? In my dreams or subconscious, whatever. Reminding me of people I let down or crossed at bad times."_

_She exhaled very slowly, as if weighing her own words. "I'm the only one of us willing to go through the barriers to talk to you."_

" _Us?" He gestured around. "There's only you and me here."_

" _Angels, Dean." She looked at him. "The angels. The ones who fell in battle."_

_He raised both eyebrows. "Ah, I think my dreams have now taken a turn for the freaky."_

" _It doesn't matter what you think, Dean." She turned in her seat and put her hand on his shoulder. Abruptly the Impala was gone, its comfort and warmth stolen away. In the way of dreams, they were now in an old wooden church that Dean knew he'd been in before. Anna stood before an altar, framed by the stained glass and white wood, her hair glowing like a fiery nimbus about her head._

" _So, care to give me the scoop already?" he asked as he sat in the front pew and reclined a little, trying to at least look relaxed. Anna took a seat beside him and looked up at the crucifix that hung over the altar. "Or is this just a weird social call? You guys sending a 'screw you for screwing us' message to me. Because that I can understand."_

_She rolled her eyes up. "Dean. Really."_

" _Have to give me some sort of hint, Anna. I'm running on next to no sleep and heart medication. Makes me not ready to wait for you to think of some-" he started and she finally turned toward him._

" _Nyx."_

_He jerked up at the way she blurted out the name. "Wait, how did you know about Nyx, Anna? You've been dead. You're a ghost right now, I bet."_

" _A ghost?" She smiled. "In a way. You think angels don't have something else to look forward to besides obliteration?" Anna shrugged. "You'd be right. God never planned for us to die, I guess. When we are killed, we just stay, nothing but meaningless discarded Grace in a limbo. But when we went to the Lethe we felt peace for a while."_

" _You went to the Lethe."_

" _So many angels, so many demons went there. But not all of us could stay there when it closed, when she sent us away. We had no where else to go. We couldn't even go back to that place we'd been stuck." She plucked at the intricate beading on her white top and her smile softened, transforming her face into a vision more loving and beautiful. "Then there was Nyx. There isn't an angel alive or dead who didn't feel her birth, Dean. Can you imagine? A demon and an angel created life. No one thought it was possible."_

_Dean lifted his eyebrows and smirked. "Trust me. Your brother was on the denial squad for a while there too."_

_She shook her head. "I know. Then we all realized that she was something else. Something new. Those of us who were thrown out of the Lethe, we've come to realize what she could be the moment she was born and the world changed. It didn't change much, just enough. We all decided then. We had lost our way and are finding it with her by helping her."_

" _Your way?" he asked._

_Anna looked at her hands. "Our way. Angels live a long time, Dean. It is always possible they forget what they were created to do. It can happen to every living creature."_

_Looking over her, Dean saw how serious she was and tried hard to figure out what she was cryptically trying to tell him. "This is pretty insane, you get me?"_

" _I get you." She turned towards him again and reached out to touch his face, her hands ice cold. "Nyx will need you, Dean."_

" _Yeah?" He was sure he was blushing a little, couldn't help it with her hazel eyes seeming to stare into him. Anna used to have have that way of looking at him, even in dreams, that seemed to see under his self-protective sarcasm. Gently removing her hands, he stood up and walked around her towards the altar. "Why the hell does an angel's kid need a human to protect her?_

" _Not just to protect her, Dean, but to teach her family. You are important."_

" _Wrong brother, Anna," he said, giving a sharp laugh as if to punctuate that. "Sammy's the special one."_

_She smiled widely. "Oh, Dean." She stood up and went to him, once again cupping his face in her hands. "You are important because even more than Sam you realize how important it is to protect something that can't help what it is. She cannot help who she is but you care about her anyway. Not just because she is Castiel's or Meg's, not just because she saved Sam. You care that that little girl is going to see the worst of mankind in ways no child should. You can already tell how this world could hurt her."_

_Dean stared down into her searching gaze, feeling her hand stroke his cheek. She smiled at the understanding she saw there. "You care, Dean, because you don't know how not to. For all your Winchester hunter instincts and tough guy antics? You care and you protect because that's who you are."_

" _So what do I do, Ghost girl?" he asked, not able to pull back from her._

" _You'll know, Dean. Just protect her," she said, stepping back._

" _Why?"_

 _Anna smiled, a genuine smile that made her even more lovely. "Time to wake up, Dean._ "

She was gone in a flash of light and Dean chortled awake, choking on her name. His arm tightened around the soft body bunched up against his side out of instinct and his other hand went towards the night table where he stashed his knife. Before he could grip the handle, he felt the small arms on his stomach move a little and realized that Nyx was beside him. She muttered a little, patted his side before contentedly falling back asleep. Eyes on her dark head, Dean heard the music playing and saw Clarence tucked in beside them. The door was shut and he realized that she'd come in because she didn't want to be alone.

A nightmare would be his guess.

But something uncomfortably like fatherly concern made him mutter for her to stay asleep as he tucked her into his warm spot on the bed. Not wanting to leave, he pulled a chair up beside the bed and studied the girl as she slept so deeply.

She looked like nothing more than a child but now Anna's dream appearance had made him wonder what she was really meant for. Wonder why he suddenly wanted to be sure she was safe. It was now a compulsion in the back of his mind and he didn't like being out of control of the one thing he thought he had left: his free choice to do what he wanted when he needed to.

Maybe it was restlessness, what with his forced rest and elected babysitter duty wearing him down. As he stared at her, Dean thought that maybe he really was getting soft.

* * *

Waiting for the hours to pass was the hardest part for a demon with too much time on her hands. Meg listened to the angel beside her snoring a little, a low rumble just loud enough to echo his heartbeat. In her head, she counted the erratic sound, noticing when his breathing just stopped and she wondered if it was just an idiosyncrasy of occupying a vessel. Then he'd start breathing again and she'd go back to reading.

Meg wondered though how much sleeping he had done as a human; he still treated it as more of a novelty than a necessity. Didn't mean she wasn't going to take full advantage. She had pulled his old journal out of his bag and started reading it, not having wanted his constant commentary over it, as if he was nervous about how she would interpret what he wrote. The sporadic entries, the almost compulsive number counting on the pages, all told her he had depended quite a bit on finding outlets for himself.

She turned to one of the December entries.

" _Killed another angel today. I'm supposed to be helping them. I have years to help them but they aren't making it any easier."_

"Oh, Clarence, when will you ever learn?" she muttered, setting it down to the side. He muttered in his sleep and turned over onto his stomach. Meg felt his arm wrap around her hips and tilted her head to watch him, wondering if he was actually faking it. Reaching out, she sifted her fingers through his hair but he didn't stir.

"You just can't help how you are, can you?" Meg asked the sleeping angel, not expecting an answer and not getting one. She settled her head back down against the headboard and began reading again, though she had a hard time deciphering his scratches and occasional tangents into things she saw as inane. Still better, she thought, than sitting around doing nothing.

When she heard the doors outside opening, people moving and cars starting up, she slid out from under his arm. Stashing his journal back in his bag, she scooped up her clothing, dressing a bit slower to compensate for the ache in her body. She finished zipping up her coat and quickly dug into his discarded jeans to fish out some money. Reminding herself that it was only to keep the pretence that they were _normal_ , it still annoyed her more demonic sensibilities to have to be so human as to not steal.

She didn't notice his head turn a little on the pillow, one blue eye opening to watch her. Meg paused in the doorframe, highlighted by light and snow outside, fixing her coat tighter and seeming to hesitate, before she closed the door behind herself to leave him alone in the dark room.

The parking lot was nearly empty of the cars that had been there the night before, except for her old car. Meg fixed her collar and made sure the door was locked before darting under the overhang.

"Damn."

She hadn't been ready for how cold it was or for the blustering winds that whipped her hair around; it looked like more snow had been dumped on them over the course of the night. The demon set her foot down tentatively in the new snow and she heard the satisfying crunch of it under her boot. Meg frowned and ground her foot down again, stuffing her hands in her pockets and shaking her shoulders. The tiny imprint of her soles left tracks as she shuffled towards the restaurant beside the bar, leaving her car behind. She just narrowly dodged being hit by a car that slide around on the ice in the parking lot.

Neither of them had noticed last night the sound of the storm or its fierce arrival. The reason why made Meg grin as she reached up to brush her fingers over a mark he'd left on her collarbone.

The restaurant itself was warm, smelling of too much old coffee and cigarettes, but almost deserted except for the group of men and women in the back corner. Truckers, maybe. Meg didn't care. The moment the waitress put a cup of coffee down in front of her, she grabbed the local paper and start reading. Years of being on the road had taught her to look for the first sign of trouble and sometimes the humans were good enough to let details slip to the newspapers.

Some disappearances, she noticed, but nothing too major.

Meg licked her dry lips and raised her cup back up, the burning coffee tasting acidic on her tongue. The waitress looked half-asleep, wiping down the same spot on the counter for the sake of something to do. Meg ran her tongue over her teeth before clicking it a few times as she saw the 'wild dog sightings' on the bottom of the third page.

_Uh huh, right._

But even though part of her attention stayed focussed on the idea of monsters, another part was back in that motel room. She should be feeling ready to run again, like she always had been before. Eager to get out and move on, that was more typical Meg. But all she wanted was to go back to the room and try to relax. Angel pillow included.

As she wavered further between leaving and staying, she sat where she was and kept drinking and reading.

She was halfway through her third cup, a satisfying buzz already going through her, when she realized that two people now sat on either side of her at the counter. The smell of them, something earthy and musky, set the warning bells off first. Meg glanced out of the corner of her eye to see that the waitress had backed off completely. The pair sitting next to her were talking to each other far too casually, as if they were nothing but humans.

Meg felt the difference in them a bit more acutely than before. Figuring it to be the long hours she'd spent in Adam's company, she looked to the side and saw the man staring at her. He bared small canines at her and she squinted at him. They were changed monsters, she guessed. The look of them wasn't quite like a skinwalker but a little different in terms of their greyish skin tone and wild look. The smell was strong, reminding her of Adam and the warehouse.

So these were leftover experiments, probably set loose by Eve, but they were still skinwalkers in the way they smelled and looked. She could handle that.

The woman to her left leaned in close to her ear, her lisping voice threatening. "Don't cause a scene, demon."

Meg shrugged and slurped away. "Let me guess, part of that skinwalker gang I saw earlier." She looked square at the woman. "You're the head bitch?"

The skinwalker's amber brown eyes turned bright orange. "Do you really want to draw attention?"

"Just here for the coffee. Not the company." Meg stood, slapped a few dollars down for the frightened looking waitress and headed for the door only to find her way blocked by two larger skinwalkers. The ones from the night before who had stared at her. Compared to the woman behind her, they looked normal without that waxy complexion and the crazed eyes.

"The Mother," the leader said. "She wants us to bring her any demons."

 _In other words,_ Meg thought, _you don't actually know who I am._

She turned on her heel slowly. "You think I'll make it easy on you?"

The other skinwalkers who were part of the pack all grinned and their leader laughed. "We were hoping you wouldn't."

Meg cursed herself for not grabbing Castiel's angel sword when she should have. "Well." She smiled up at the two big ones over her shoulder. "This should be fun."

She waved her hand, sending out a pulse and wave of energy that flung the two guards through the doors and out into the parking lot. She followed through, ignoring the way the skinwalkers charged through the restaurant after her and making sure she moved just one step ahead of them. Even locked in this body she could still move fast and she was in better shape than she had been weeks ago.

But they had a point. If she did this in the open, then the chances of someone noticing, of word getting back to Eve, were pretty high and she needed to lie low.

Meg knew how important it was to lie low in times like these.

She crossed the highway at a run, narrowly avoiding the trucks and sanders out, and then spun midway into the park across the street. The skinwalkers had followed her, some already changing into their canine form as they gave chase. Meg watched them surround her, calculated distance and how much room she needed, and then smiled at the leader. The woman had a triumphant grin, as if she expected Meg to give up just out of sheer numbers.

"You always do what Mommy tells you?" the demon asked.

"She is going to bring us back to where we should be. Top of the food chain, and you scum can go back to Hell."

Meg pouted prettily. "Might have some disagreement there."

"She was with a man," a man said behind her. "He might come looking for her."

"A demon?" the woman asked and Meg smirked a little. "Doesn't matter. Her boyfriend won't miss her."

"He might have something to say about that. I like to think he's a little attached to me." She caught a rushing movement out of the corner of her eye and lashed out, catching a monster by his collar. She twisted him down, and slammed his face into the snow, holding him down. His body flailed as he began to choke on the snow, arms trying to beat her off as Meg ground her knee into the nape of his neck until she heard a crack of bone under the pressure. Her eyes went black and she grinned widely.

The skinwalkers looked nervously at each other.

"You're an old one," the leader said, suddenly seeming unsure, and Meg shrugged. "You should have known better than to be alone then."

She felt a cold rush of the wind displacing, lifting her hair a little.

"Didn't say I was alone." The look on their faces was almost worth it as they looked behind her at the newest arrival. Meg grinned and tossed her hair over her shoulder, noticing Castiel. He stared back, obviously angry. "Took you long enough."

Grinding his teeth in his anger, he looked ready to strangle her himself. "You always find trouble."

"I'm good at that, remember?" she asked, noticing the open confusion of the creatures watching them.

"He's…" The leader backed away a bit. "He's not a demon."

Panic went through the group, changing them from a unified pack to a chaotic mess. One of the skinwalkers, already changed into a large shepherd, charged forward snarling and Meg slammed her knee into its side as it went down with a whine. Castiel moved up beside her but before he could move her out of the way she ducked under his arm. She filched his sword out from under his coat, where she had glimpsed it safely tucked into his belt, and he spun with her to guard her back. The dog shrieked as she sliced into its side, yelping when she dug it a little deeper.

Castiel muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse.

The female leader changed, her form more hulking than the others, and a mixture of dogs and humanoids lined up to face the angel and demon.

"Never wanted company," Meg muttered and felt his hand on her arm, pulling her so she guarded his back.

The rest attacked at the same time and it became a blur of bodies and movement as Meg and Castiel fought together. With her armed, he allowed himself to be more reckless, catching the creatures in his arms so that she could finish them. Occasionally, he'd get catch her smiling just before finishing off another monster and Meg saw his anger with her. But the anger was only part of what she could feel rolling off of him. They could feel each other's adrenaline, the excitement in a fight, and it followed them like a shadow as they fought the skinwalkers. She sank her sword into the belly of the female leader, causing her to howl and Castiel swung her about his body to protect her from a swipe. He felt the rasp of claws catching his leg and he slammed his fist down onto a boxy head of the grotesquely changed monster.

Meg flung her hair over her shoulder, watched the remaining pack start to circle them and felt a slight spike in her enjoyment that they were giving her such a fight. But the grip Castiel had on her hand tightened.

"Shut your eyes," he shouted and Meg spun, shielding her eyes instinctively as he lifted his hand. The parkland filled with a flash of light, and in a heartbeat it was over, the changed monsters collapsed down, burnt out and dead.

Opening her eyes, Meg glanced around the park while slowly dusting off her jeans from the snow and feeling how soaked she was just from being tripped up into the slippery patches. It didn't matter. The bitter cold wind on her skin felt good after the heated fight and she grinned at the sight of the ashy remains already being covered in snow.

"Not bad, Clarence," she muttered and turned to find him so close she had to creak her neck back to stare up at him.

There was no mistaking the anger she saw on his face. "You should have waited for me."

"Don't need a babysitter, feathers," Meg snapped back. She stepped into him and poked him hard in the chest. "I can fight as well as you can."

Vaguely, she was aware that the closer she pressed into him, the deeper her breathing became. The exhilaration from a fight was hard to come down from so fast and under his coat she felt his heart beating hard.

"Were you worried about little old me?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood. He looked away and she saw his jaw clench up. "You can stay and pout if you want, I'm going back."

There was another flash, the sensation that time had stood still for a fraction, and Meg closed her eyes as the world shifted around her. Immediately, there was a warm draft that stung the cold flesh of her cheeks when she landed against something solid.

"You went out hoping I'd follow you."

"Not exactly," she answered. She opened her eyes to see him still looming over her, her back to the door. The motel room, warm and familiar, was still dark with the blinds shut.

"I think you enjoyed fighting with me, against me sometimes, just to see what I'll do," Castiel said and Meg smiled up at him.

"I think you like it too. No one else does it with you that way I do, I bet. No one dares." Her hands lifted and set themselves back against the door over her head, taunting him. "Unless you don't like how I do it." She took in his harsh breathing, his dilated pupils, and the way his body was tight, before she gave him a coy smirk. "But I think you do."

She leaned up, mouth just brushing his lower lip when she stood up on her toes. Meg felt him exhale against her face, tasted cold mint on his breath. His skin was cold as hers, his lips icy despite the way her tongue traced them. Even the snow that had dusted his hair was sprinkling down cold and wet onto her face, making her shiver as he tilted his head just a little more and she drew her tongue across his lip. He cupped her face and held her back, and she saw his blue eyes darting over her thoughtfully.

"You were nearly hurt," he whispered.

"But I wasn't. I had you, Clarence."

He stared down at her and the demon gave him a surprisingly soft smile.

"My guardian angel," Meg finished and with a defeated groan, he lowered his head and kissed her. The hands on her face were as cold as his lips and when he turned his head to deepen the kiss she felt more snow fall between them from his shoulders and head. The adrenaline that had sparked before was still roaring in their blood, turning their kiss into a fight of its own as she gripped him closer by his collar. Her body wrapped around his, pushing him back just a little until he moved to grip her clothing. His hands tugged her coat apart, tossed it into a soaked pile on the floor, at the same time she managed to shove his own coat off. Her tongue slipped over his, darting teasingly so he had to follow her to keep the kiss deep. Feeling his hands going down to cup her by her buttocks, Meg hitched a leg up over his waist just before he pushed her into the door. The solid smack of her back meeting it made her laugh as he lifted her up and held her suspended there.

Whatever sarcastic quip she thought she could manage when Castiel moved his mouth down her neck was lost as he sucked a red mark up onto her skin, his moan loud as if he was tasting something delicious.

She could get used to this again.

* * *

It would figure, Meg decided, that Castiel would complain about her leaving the motel room without him but act as eager as a teenager with his first girlfriend if he was able to come along. He made his opinion about being left behind pretty clear. After being put up against the wall so… so…. just the memory made Meg grin as she fell in to step beside him. Her back ached, her legs hurt, and even her throat was a bit scratchy.

_Worth it._

Castiel cleared his own throat and she glanced up at him. The small purple mark on his throat, half hidden by his upturned collar, only added to the incredibly ruffled look of him. He looked down at the snow, as if alarmed by the way it had become deeper, and made a large step over a bank of it. It was well over her hip and she eyed the slippery slope thoughtfully. She could dart over it easy, what demon couldn't, but she also couldn't resist making Castiel as uncomfortable as possible in public sight. Meg waited and he stared back at her.

"You can't have lost all your human know-how, Clarence," she said.

He stared. "You…"

She gestured abruptly and he reached out automatically for her. His hands slid down to her hips and lifted and she grinned at him as he lifted her out of the snow.

"Adorable, Clarence. I was going to say "wait a second", but the helping hand? Cute."

He gave her hips a warning squeeze. "Next time, I'll drop you if you wish."

Meg rolled her eyes and leaned a bit into him. "Have to remember then, Cas. Cold demon." She stuck her hand under his shirt so her icy fingers met his warm flesh. He yelped in reaction. "Cold hands."

Making a face at her, he snatched her hand away and, still muttering about demons, half-dragged her after him. His hand was warm and Meg thought about pulling away until it was clear he wasn't about to let her. Eventually though, as they came back to the overhang and were able to slip under and out of the blowing snow, he let her go. He slowed up a little, giving her time to catch up, and she thought she felt his hand slide around her hip.

Then it was gone and the stoic, expressionless angel was back.

"I don't see why we needed to leave the room."

She shrugged. "Stir crazy, Cas. I need some whisky and to watch some old drunks beat each other up."

He grumbled and followed her into the bar. It was decently full and Meg felt his hand on the small of her back, pushing her further away from the humans. She ignored it and slid down onto a chair at a window table. He fidgeted, looked more upset than she expected, and when the waitress came over she ordered doubles.

Something told her he was going to be insufferable.

"Look. Just unscrunch your panties, sit down, have a drink, and we'll be gone in a bit. This makes us look normal." She leaned back against the window and propped her leg up on the chair beside her. Castiel sat down and sighed, shaking snow out of his hair. Meg eyed him. "Have to remember, big guy, we're trying to be respectable."

"Manager already thinks we aren't," he muttered and then blinked, looking back at her. Her arched eyebrow made him open his mouth and then give a weak smile. "He thinks we're having an affair together."

"Mm." She leaned back and unbuttoned her coat slowly. "Not far from the truth I guess."

They were half way through several glasses of whisky before Castiel seemed to lighten up a little. He wasn't drunk, far from it, but seeing her willing to sit and relax had the same effect on him.

"What was it like?" he asked after the waitress left the second time. Meg took a burning sip and looked at him. "Being human again."

"Wasn't quite human though," she corrected.

"Close enough." He looked down at the table.

Her eyes, for the first time since they'd come here, went colder than onyx. "Don't ask, Castiel."

He shuddered a little. "Fine."

Meg spun the glass on the table and brooded in silence. Castiel sighed, down the rest of his drink, and then stood to take a seat beside her, nudging her leg over.

"Then why did you do it?" she asked and he sighed as he took her empty glass and switched it with his. There was no bitterness in her voice, just curiosity.

"Because I wanted you to live."

Her body shifted a little and he turned to look at her.

"You could have told me."

He almost didn't hear her. "Would you have listened? Done as I asked?"

The waitress put another drink down and Meg slid it towards herself. "No."

He reached out and brushed her hair out of her face. "Meg." Her eyes, with a slowness not at all like her usual self, lifted to his. Castiel took in a deep breath and let it out, watching the way her gaze seemed to search his face for clues about what he was thinking. He wanted to say something but for some reason, this time he was stuck. All he could do was remove his hand and look down at the table.

Meg calmly looked back out the window.

"We should get out of here," he said, slapping money on the table and pushing away from the table. Meg stared up at him, aware that he had lost that slight smile and lighter look to his face.

Instead, this was the Castiel of a few weeks ago.

He walked out ahead of her, all eagerness out of his step and his shoulders slumping downward. Meg stopped on the roadway when it became a bit too much, sucking in cold air and forcing herself not to curse at him. But Castiel kept walking, clearly thinking she was going to follow him.

"Angels," she muttered. It would be good to walk away for a while, clear her head. It was too easy, even for a demon, to get muddled by warmth, by safety and sex, and she knew she was in danger of getting in over her head.

Again.

But she watched Castiel pause, his hands flex outward, and she stuffed her hands in her pockets and followed him anyway. He waited for her under the carpark overhang, walked behind her with a resoluteness that reminded her of having a bodyguard.

When Meg slipped into the room, he was just behind her, locking the door and pressing up against her. She could feel the cold air in that final draft brushing against the back of her neck and the way his hand brushed hers as he set the keys down on the table. For an angel that could move faster than she could and carried far more threat than many of the demons or monsters she knew, the fact that she trusted him at her back like this was something she still wondered about.

When Meg turned towards him, her eyes a bit narrow and her mouth pursed, she saw his suspicious look.

"It won't change anything," she said. "We both know that." Castiel said nothing. Her fingers, a bit numb from cold, unzipped his jacket and then helped him shrug it off. "So we move on. We're not humans, Cas."

"If we were?" he asked and, when she tried to ignore that, he grabbed her hands in his and held them still. His skin was almost too hot compared to hers.

Meg thought about that. "I don't know. That's not an option, Cas."

He sighed and looked away.

"If we were human, we'd be so caught up on how soon we were going to die, ignoring everything and pretending it didn't exist just for some stupid idea of perfect happiness." She nodded to herself as if that made all the sense in the world. Reaching out, she took his chin in her hand and held him still. "We're different, Cas, and we're the same. The moment either of us started over thinking this… gets us into trouble."

Castiel looked at his feet. "So what do we do?"

"Well." She helped pull him pull his shirt off over his head before she splayed her fingers over his chest. "You can prove that you missed me, even a little."

As the shirt fell, he looked at her curiously. "How?"

Running her tongue over her lower lip, she shrugged and tilted her head back as she stepped into him. The way he sucked in a breath, shivered when her cold hands slid just under the waist of his pants, was flattering.

"Use your imagination, Clarence."

* * *

Even the thought of more days spent in the bunker seemed to be the limit for his brother. Sitting on the worn old couch, Sam watched Dean pace as his long fingers spun a hunting knife back and forth with a thoughtless sort of skill. Sam took another big bite of his apple; let juice run down his chin as he glanced down to where Nyx was struggling to read. She was curled up under his arm, matter-of-factly turning pages and running her fingers over the words. He wasn't sure if she was trying to read but he heard her sounding out letters. The girl had grabbed one of his bigger tomes on demons in Mesopotamia, and had been imitating him reading for a few minutes now.

Likely it was the worst kind of book for her to try to read; she had enough nightmares, Dean had mentioned the other night. History lessons on demons wouldn't help those.

"Are you going to pace all day?" Sam asked as he stood up and took the book from Nyx. She sighed and waited as he began to rifle through the book shelves he kept safely stashed away from Dean for his more precious copies of personal books. "Nyx and I are getting tired just watching you."

"This is going to drive me crazy, you know that?" Dean waved his hand. "We're stuck here. Snow storm still coming in and I hate the cold."

"Well, we did agree to it."

"You can't tell me it's not driving you and Nyx nuts as well." He held up his hand and showed Sam his blackened nails where Nyx had coloured them in with a Sharpie. "Obviously."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well, short of this getting to be "Adventures in Babysitting", I'm going to bang my head off the walls."

Sam sighed and found a battered copy of the Hobbit for Nyx. He handed it to her and muttered for her to try reading. It would be too difficult for a small child but she flipped through to illustrations and began to stare intently at the dragon sketch.

"So what do you want to do?" Dean grinned almost wolfishly, the sort of look at made his brother stare at him wide-eyed before he shook his head. "No. We're not hunting, Dean."

"Why not?"

"Because we told Cas we'd take care of Nyx and find a solution to Eve being out. One worry at a time." Sam gestured at the stack of books. "And we're not any closer, Dean. The archives are so damn vast I can't keep track of what I've read anymore."

"We go to ground. Find some of her offspring and get some intel."

"Isn't that why you brought Benny back?" Sam asked snidely.

"Dray-gone," Nyx's piping clear voice startled them both into looking at her. She tapped the drawing of Smaug and smiled up at them. "Dray-gone."

Dean gave her an indulgent smile and then pulled Sam further away so she wouldn't hear. "Benny's in thick with vamps. That's great. But I won't hear from him for days now. We need some information or we're shootin' blind for weeks. Catching one of her kids is our best chance. Failing that, a demon or two."

Sam gave a short chuckle. "And what do we do with Nyx? Take her with us?"

"I don't see what the problem is," Dean protested.

"She's three."

"We can go out, do some hunting, get back here before we even hear from Cas and Meg." Dean shrugged. "No problem."

"Big problem, Dean. She's three."

"Almost four. Remember Dad? We were out on hunts when we were three."

"Not quite how I remember it all the time. We were scared too." Sam glared. "She's three."

"This isn't some sort of sexist thing, is it, Sammy? Girls can take care of themselves, remember?" He grinned. "Come on, Sam. Last time we went to save Cas and Meg, that was a hunt."

Sam grabbed him by his shoulders and held on, punctuating his words with a shake. "She's. Three." He let him go. "Not to mention, last time we did take her, she disobeyed us and went right in there to find Cas. Nyx got lucky but she could have been hurt, Dean. You want that on your conscience?"

He missed the way Dean's face dropped a little. "Or imagine facing Meg and Cas after. They'd rip us apart."

"All right, all right, don't guilt me on this." Dean lifted a hand as if drawing in the air. "Well. I'm going stir crazy."

"Yeah, I got that. What's plan B? How many days of research into Eve and we've had little to come up with on getting her back into Purgatory. Or killed." Sam ran his hand over his jaw. "Maybe I missed something."

Dean looked down. "We're tired out on research, Sam. I was told not stress myself and you walloped yourself in the head a few weeks ago. Maybe we _do_ need to just lie back and relax." He shuddered. "Can't do it, sorry. I've been on the go for years and this is gonna kill me."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Maybe we just need a miracle."

A loud bang close by made them both jump. Newly arrived and dusted with snow, Kevin set his bag down on the closest chair and walked slowly towards the common room. He looked tired and rumpled from the long bus ride but he smiled at them anyway.

"Ask and ye shall receive," Dean muttered and then swore as Nyx squealed happily and ran past him to latch onto Kevin's leg. The prophet gave her a small hug in return and stood up.

"Nyxie, you're getting so big already," he said as he ruffled her dark hair. He tried walking but she held onto his leg and stepped on his foot, forcing him to walk stiff-legged towards the Winchesters. As hard as it made it for him to walk, he didn't try to shake her off. "Hey, guys."

They both smiled and nodded, Dean eying Nyx again. "I see you've met our resident gripper monkey."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Not monkey."

"Nyx," he warned, guessing the insult.

Kevin stooped down and wrapped his arm around Nyx's middle to pick her up, holding her under his arm like a large football though Dean thought he looked just as rail thin as she was and not strong enough. She started giggling immediately and despite how exhausted he was even Kevin smiled. Sam noticed the change when he touched Nyx though: as if he recharged immediately just being around her and seemed to be less worn-out.

"So what's up?"

"Just spent the worst ten hours on a bus you can imagine. Fat guy slobbering to the left of me, jokers to the right, that sort of thing." He carried Nyx with him towards the common room as he followed Dean and Sam. Breathless with giggling, she'd given up on fighting him. "You guys didn't get my text?"

"Which one?"

"Hunters are on high alert." He glanced down at Nyx and then smiled though it didn't reach his eyes. "They are very interested in some new creature in the world. Blaming you two. Again."

"We're used to that. Look, Dean wanted to hunt some case you found so…"

"I'm good for now," he said so abruptly that his brother blinked in surprise. He shrugged but his eyes hadn't left Kevin. "Kev needs his rest. We can wait."

"Hey, thanks." Kevin boosted Nyx back up so she was in his arms. "God, you're heavy. Are you eating more than Sam now?"

For a response, she pinched him hard in the side. He made a face and looked at the Winchesters. "Kid of angels and demons huh? And she pinches. God forbid she learn something worse."

"We're keeping her away from sharp objects for now," Sam admitted but his eyes were on Dean still. "She's due for something to eat, can you take her with you?"

"Yeah sure." He set her down on her feet. "Come on, Nyx."

"Bring me a present?" she demanded. Both Winchesters watched the interaction with barely hidden amusement as Kevin gave her a wide-eyed look before nodding.

"Yep, of course." He dug into his back pocket for something and then produced a folded up paper. "Voila. Map of Nebraska that I stole from the bus depot."

She unfolded the map immediately, puzzling over it as she tried to look at everything. "Nee-bra-skeh." She eyed a coffee stain, the lines on the map circling towns and places, and then smiled up him. "I like Nee-bra-skeh!"

"Might be of the few," Dean muttered though he gestured for her to follow Kevin. He watched Nyx toddle after the young man, immediately asking him questions of 'why?' and 'how?'. Better the prophet than him, he figured.

Sam peered at Dean thoughtfully. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" He started to shove by and the taller man caught him by the elbow, holding him still.

"You look cagey all of a sudden, Dean," he explained. "Something is bothering you."

"Being cooped up is what bothers me." He gave him a grin that didn't reach his eyes at all. "Just glad it might be over for a bit."

Even though the words seemed light hearted, Sam had the feeling he didn't mean them at all. He watched him leave and then sighed. "We're going to need you, Cas. I just hope Meg hasn't killed you yet."

* * *

Castiel wasn't sure what to make of Meg in this mood. Used to sex as a human, he thought he'd been accustomed to how it could feel: frenzied, passionate, sloppy, nervous. But he hadn't expected to enjoy lying so lazily with her like this. Meg hadn't said much when mid-way through his almost rapt watching of the weather channel she had rolled over and muttered for him to turn it off. The flirtatious glint in her eye he hadn't missed and he'd almost thrown the remote to the floor when she had straddled him. It had taken just a few kisses to get him distracted and the feel of her mouth on him had made him forget completely what he'd been doing. She claimed it was just her way of passing the time.

Unexpected or not, he could see the appeal behind her methods.

She tossed her head back, one hand braced on his stomach as she moved her body slowly on top of him. There was something devilish in her grin that made him grip her hips tighter as he watched her.

"You know, I think this is a 'make up for lost time' thing. Going for the record, Clarence?" she offered, thighs gripping him when he rolled up to meet her downward thrusts. Castiel watched her, using his body to help her rise and fall on top of him so that she could rock easier. She bit into her lower lip and nodded, silently praising him for doing it right, and he smiled, watching the way she arched her back and let her head fall back completely.

"Are you complaining?" he asked, not as out of breath as she was. Her snarky reply was lost as she came with a broken cry, her rhythm stuttering a little. Putting his hand on her stomach, he imagined that he could feel her muscles clenching and releasing within and he closed his eyes to follow behind her. His startled groan was the only thing remotely like how sex normally went between angel and demon; there was no wrecked furniture, nothing ripped and torn. Even the sweat on them was light and the sex had been pure laziness.

An angel would find something wrong with such sloth but he enjoyed it almost as much as when he had put her up against a door much earlier.

Meg gave a pleased hum and stooped down to plant a perfunctory kiss on his forehead before rolling off of him. The daylight was still peeking in through the blackout curtains and, once he recovered, he rolled off the bed to take care of himself. A quick glance in the bathroom mirror, at his ruffled hair and relaxed face, made it clear that her idea of sex to pass the time wasn't such a bad thing. He caught sight of a bruise on his chest where she'd bitten too hard, and he ran his palm over it to smooth the skin down again. But before he healed the bruise he stopped and shook his head, leaving it alone.

When he came back out, Meg had already hogged the majority of the bed.

"Demons," Castiel muttered to himself as he knelt beside her and physically shifted her around so he wasn't on a corner. "So greedy."

"In my nature," Meg answered without opening her eyes or giving him a blanket. "Not like you need the covers."

"If I didn't find that sinning side to you so endearing now, I'd be upset," he said as he took his spot on a third of the bed. Meg shuffled back into him and he heard her huff as he slipped under the heavy flannel with her.

"Don't sleep with the demon then. You can take the…" His hand slipped down her front, cupped a breast as he made himself comfortable. "Floor."

"Really?" He ran his thumb over her nipple and it hardened instantly. "It feels like you would like me to stay."

"Shut up." The phone rang suddenly, piercing the silence, and from his place sprawled against Meg's back Castiel sighed and reached over to the table. She made a faint murmur, head burying into the pillow, and he pressed a kiss against her neck to shush her.

"Yes?"

"Just a check in. Nyx is safe, so don't worry. Kevin's here and she's spending her time bugging him," Dean said and he lowered his voice. "Still fighting with Meg?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Castiel couldn't resist smirking against her skin as she leaned up into him and made more sleepy murmurs. "Is Nyx awake?"

"Trawling around behind Kevin again. He's not going to get any peace."

He sighed, wanting to talk to her. "So she's not around."

"Well, we're busy researching Eve but we're pretty empty-handed. We could use the—"

Castiel pressed the end button and tossed his phone down, sighing as he curled up around Meg again.

"He'll be pissed."

"I know." His head rested against the back of her neck but knew he had to move after too many hours rest. As good as staying here felt, he had to be sure they were safe. There was a slight tension in her from before now, as she seemed to sense his intention. "I need to go see if there are more creatures at the borders. I'll be back."

He felt how stiff she went and he stayed with her for a little longer, until he thought she was starting to sleep again.

* * *

Meg waited for him to leave again, presumably to go see if any news had been spread about the monsters, before she slid from the bed. As much as she had actually enjoyed the past few days, where she had figured out exactly what Castiel had learned in the past few years, she felt cooped up in the small room. The urge to do something, mischievous, evil, _something,_ was so strong that she moved fast to get dressed. Grabbing what money she had and his angel sword, she debated on how long it would take him to get back.

She locked the door again as she left the room, noticing in surprise the growing darkness.

_How long had they been in there for?_

It actually made her uncomfortable to realize how much time she had willingly wasted with Castiel. How happily she still wanted to go back. Shoving that thought away, she started off for the bar and zipped her coat up against the cold wind. If anything, the quiet was a good sign.

What she felt when she was half-way between bar and motel was something not like a monster. It was something else more familiar and it made her pause and turn.

"Who's following me now?" she asked out loud.

"You're slipping up, Meg. I never expected to see you here."

The sudden childish voice didn't mask the hate in the words and Meg frowned, looking around and seeing nothing. She reached down to her belt, and heard a few footsteps just behind her.

When she spotted a boy, not even twelve years old, gesturing at her. At first she wondered if he was warning her but a car pulled into the lot and shone its headlamps on him. What she saw made her stomach turn. She wasn't above using humans to get what she wanted but the demon inside this boy was literally killing him just for giggles.

Definitely one of Abaddon's.

* * *

The shapeshifters, apparently, weren't the only ones with territory so close. A nest of vampires, all newly made and vicious, were prowling the streets when Castiel made his way into the city edges. What news he had followed led him to the outskirts, where it had seemed that more and more of Eve's children were centring. It was possible they did know he and Meg were here, hiding, but as he eavesdropped on the vampires, he realized that wasn't likely. The decoys of them had distracted what trackers Eve had sent out and these vampires were too young to do much but gossip. Keeping himself invisible, the angel followed the younger members of the nest, still drunk on human blood, to rundown house on the poorer end of town. Suddenly wishing for the weight of his overcoat, which sometimes made him actually feel like what he was, Castiel leaned back and watched the pair pass him on the sidewalk.

"The Mother sent word."

"But no one actually knows what she wants."

"Some angel and humans she has a hard-on for," the taller male said and Castiel squinted a little to see if he was maybe older than what he was. But no; this one was as young as the woman beside him.

"What's DeVries think?"

"We're not getting involved. There's a bunch of nests going underground, rather than helping out." The girl shifted uncomfortably as she passed Castiel again. He could smell how bloated with blood she was and he resisted the urge to smite her there. "You heard the stories though, right? Some angel the Winchesters hang out with got something going on with a demon."

The fact that he was a source of gossip was something that barely phased Castiel.

"So what?"

"What if the Mother makes us do something?" The vampire raised her voice almost frantically. "I'm not prepared for that. I just want to… want to live forever and be pretty and… I don't want to go around being a warrior."

A more selfish motivation, Castiel wasn't sure he had heard but he wasn't disgusted, he just felt sympathetic.

The man beside her shrugged his massive shoulders. "How hard can killing the Winchesters be?"

"Very difficult, actually," Castiel said as he materialized before them and put his hand over their faces. Their fangs brushed his hands but he ignored them. "I'm sorry."

He ignored their shrieking as he burned them.

* * *

To be fair, Meg thought to herself as she watched the demon pick itself up, sometimes when demon took child-form they forgot the limitations of the body. The child body worked on humans; very few would hesitate to strike a child. Demons had no problems with it.

Even with everything in her own life that had changed, Meg could still see the demon face on the body and once the child and her had been alone in the back alley behind the bar, she hadn't hesitated to strike. The demon had been so startled that he hadn't really fought back all that hard and Meg had knocked him out easily. Using her power and a mixture of tossed out paint to create a trap, she had all but thrown the demon into the trap and waited patiently for him to wake up.

Still bearing the cuts and bruises from her brief fight, Meg wiped at her mouth and walked slowly around the circle. The angel sword she kept balanced in one hand, lightly turning it so that the demon on the ground could catch the glimmer. The round chubby face upturned towards her.

"Crowley said you had a deal with him."

She rolled her eyes and watched him stand up. "If you believe that."

"Still being the angel's pet? Or what would be the term for an angel's bitch?"

Meg lifted the knife at the same time she bent her power toward him and he spun in the air, slamming down to the ground once more. Childish whimpers filled the air and she shook her head. "Demon, remember? Try that shit on a human."

The demon began laughing, something more guttural that belonged in the throat of a grown man, not a child. "You're dead. That's what I came to tell you. The Queen sent us all, those she could spare, to see what remained of you. Not much."

"Old news." She reached out and poked at him with the knife just to watch him squirm. "No one likes old news."

"You've gone soft, Meg." The fat shoulders rolled a bit. "There was a time when you would have killed another demon."

"Yeah, yeah." She stood straighter and turned back to lean against the wall. The smirk on her face dropped at his next words.

"How's the bastard? What's her name again? The one you are so set on protecting," he said slyly and then glanced up at her. He realized that the look she sent him was no longer one of superiority or boredom. Her clenched jaw signalled and narrowed eyes were both warning signs.

Meg didn't answer and she watched the large grey eyes dart over the area desperately. He clearly thought she was going to kill him right away but she had a better idea. Tapping her fingers on her hip, she let just a little bit more of her power leech out, twisting the demon about in a painful circle so he landed on his stomach again. She walked slowly around the trap, tapping the sword against her thigh and hummed lowly.

"Come on, Clarence. I'm waiting for you," she whispered.

As if on cue, she felt Castiel's arrival and he stood across from her and the other demon. He looked at the boy, blinked as if surprised to see a demon in a child, and then levelled a questioning look at her.

"Found him close to the restaurant," she explained. "But I'm betting it was just him getting lucky."

"Getting lucky," the demon said, obviously disgusted. "I found you. That isn't luck."

Meg's fingers tightened and he gasped.

"He's taken a child's body," Castiel observed with his usual stoniness.

"All the points," Meg muttered sarcastically. The demon charged to the edge of the circle and then fell back again. He shrieked angrily just before Meg put her hand up to her lips. She even held up the sword again "Can it."

He nodded, slowly as if he was worried she would strike.

"Maybe we should just slice you."

"Meg." Castiel's voice snapped her out of her perusal of the demon and she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was shaking his head. "No."

Teeth grinding, she looked back at the boy and tightened her fingers. He stared back at her and as she and the demon faced off she felt Castiel come up behind her.

"The child he's in is innocent," his hand wrapped around her arm, "we'll do this another way."

The voice that came out of the little boy was anything but childish. "Abaddon didn't like your deal with Crowley. All to save that brat."

Angel and demon both looked down at the boy.

"Did you think a deal with the King of the Crossroads is the same as a deal with the Queen?" His grey eyes went black. "You're not that stupid, Meg."

Hand still tight around Meg's arm, Castiel pulled her back slowly.

The demon turned his head to the side, so fast that his neck cracked a little. "Your Queen wishes to see you, Meg," he said. "That is why I'm here."

"Does she know about Azazel?" she asked before Castiel could stop her and the demon stiffened a little. "Rumour has it he's been back all this time."

"Impossible. Azazel is dead."

"So was I."

Castiel stared down at the boy. "Run back to your mistress and tell her."

The demon took only two steps before it was tethered in its place by the trap. Castiel's eyes narrowed a little and he glanced back at Meg to see her hand in a tight fist.

"Meg."

"You think that letting a demon run free, knowing where we are, is a plan?" she demanded. His hand tightened to bruising on her arm.

"The child won't survive an exorcism."

There was no kindness in her voice as she responded with, "Then that's where you come in."

He glared at her in profile, and Meg's eyes finally came back to his face. He held her look as long as he dared but knew she had a point. They were condemning the child the demon had attached itself to even worse than an adult. The chances of Abaddon being forgiving to the demon when it came back with news of Azazel were slim. And if the demon was fast in returning to his Queen, then the motel would be crawling with demons. The only way was to send him back to the Pit where he would have to struggle to get out once more.

Letting her go, Castiel stepped back from Meg. The demon child watched them both warily, eyes flickering between colours. The devil's trap now kept it pinned and as Meg began to mutter an exorcism, forcing it on the demon as she stared at him, watching the way he twisted.

Castiel's fingers outstretched at his side as the demon shot itself out the meatsuit, threatened enough by just the start of the incantation. Meg's eyes followed the plume of black smoke as it hit the trap line and then started to recoil. With a snap of guttural Latin, she finished the exorcism, watching as the demon fell back towards the bottom of the trap. Castiel reached out into the circle, feeling the hot wave of Meg's power slamming into him, and snatched the boy out of the circle. He was already unconscious from it and with a press of his hand against the boy's forehead he sent him into a deeper state, repairing the damage.

Meg simply watched as the smoke fell to the ground, hearing as Castiel couldn't hear the demon's fury at being exorcised.

The angel and demon didn't speak for a while, the tension building slowly.

"I'll need to call Dean," Castiel said finally. Meg nodded, her blackened eyes slowly fading back to brown almost as if she didn't want the change.

"Makes sense." She glanced over her shoulder at him. It looked like she was ready to say more until she shrugged a shoulder. "Let's…"

"I'll get him home. You go back to the motel and wait."

"I can…"

"Wait. We won't leave yet. With the fireworks that went up here, the monsters will be watching and where there is one demon there is bound to be more." He actually gave her the tiniest of smiles. "A few more days won't hurt."

Meg looked at the child in his arms and wisely didn't say a word. It wasn't until they were back in the motel, relatively safe despite her frustration, that she rounded on him to complain.

Only to find it wasn't as fun to fight with him when he just sat and watched her pace back and forth, taking her anger. He didn't say a word, just let her fume until she was too exhausted to resist the way he pulled her down with him.

That almost endearingly patient look he gave her was enough to make her wonder if he had heard a word she had said.

* * *

The final days passed and Meg found herself slowly succumbing to his comfort again. He didn't say a word over how troubled she was, and Meg didn't thing to say more to him about the demon they had exorcised. The angel was obviously concerned but as he had pointed out, they were attracting just enough attention with his decoys that no one knew what to do. Castiel stayed with her and they left the room only to get her food or to find supplies, sometimes to lead the monsters astray and see what rumours were just starting to build. But always they came back together and just stayed inside the room when there was nothing else to do.

Somehow for the first time in years both of them had no urge to keep moving.

Meg was curled up against him, one leg thrown across his groin so she could feel the half-swelled heat of him against her thigh, when the moment hit. Under her cheek she could feel his breathing, the solid thud of his heart beat with the press of his warm skin against hers, and still it was surprising. The almost drugging sensation of comfort was there but she realized what they were doing. If they had been human still, maybe it would have been more obvious to her.

They were reconciling. They were sliding back into that comfortable state they had been in before they had separated years ago.

Not like it wasn't bad thing. Was it?

Her eyes cracked open, spying the almost empty box of condoms he'd thrown to the side, and remembered how he'd quite resolutely submitted to her demands that they don't have a repeat of three years ago. That he'd known all about protection had made her laugh and maybe feel a bit of jealousy, but he set about making her forget it. Castiel didn't see it as absurd and he seemed almost pleased with himself in finding ways to seduce her as quickly as she had seduced him.

With a contented grin, she stretched and wrapped herself tighter around his lean body, head resting on his stomach. Castiel's arm kept her against him and she hummed, nuzzling the scar tissue on his chest. His other hand stroked up her back, curling strands around his fingers absently. His body felt almost too warm and it pulled her into a doze she hadn't expected.

Her personal angel pillow. She always said that teasingly to try to push it away but it was true.

"You know, with all this cuddling?" she murmured, clearing her throat and he made an agreeable sound, combing through her hair gently. "This could count as some sort of reunion. Have to wonder if this is what honeymoon sex feels like."

"I suppose." His fingers snagged in a tangle and he worked it out for her. "I missed this. You. I missed being there for Nyx and I will always regret that… but this, here with you, is what I dreamed of."

Meg was quiet for a while, absorbing the way he was trying to comfort her. Castiel seemed to be thinking something over, his body suddenly tight underneath her. He pushed her hair away from her face and slowly pulled her up his body until he could look at her face. The narrow-eyed gaze he gave her made her grin wickedly back to cover how uncomfortable it made her. When it was clear he wasn't going to succumb to laughter, she started to pull away.

The hand in her hair tightened just enough that she stayed still and he let her go.

"Meg. Why?" His fingers smoothed down her face, as if testing the mask she wore. "Why now?"

Her eyes darted to the side. "Why does it matter?"

He sighed and cupped her cheek in his hand, drawing her close. "Because it does now."

"Told you, it was perspective and time. What more do you want from me then?" Meg felt his mouth ghosting over her neck. "Confessions of a demon?"

"Just honesty." He pressed a simple kiss against her throat. Simple but it made her shudder. "That's all."

"That's a big order to a demon, feathers."

"I know."

He set about seducing her into talking and she let him with the sort of sleepy feeling of someone who felt the world was unreal. His fingers traced over her back and sides but he made no move to do more, even when he turned her under him. Meg's eyes were half-closed but she fiddled with his hair as he pressed his forehead to her stomach and rested there in an odd mimicry of how she had slept upon him.

"You knew, three years ago, how I started to feel about you, didn't you?" she asked.

He murmured an agreeable sound.

"That I loved you then." Her voice was low and nervous. "I guess it didn't really change. Maybe some things don't."

Meg hadn't realized a whisper could be so loud when the world went quiet. The low growling words had sounded all demon and less human than ever before but she knew he had heard it. The hands that had been stroking her sides stilled.

She closed her eyes. "Would be easier if I didn't."

He shifted over her and nudged her hand away from her eyes. When she looked up at him, he stroked her crown. "No, it wouldn't."

His head dropped and he kissed her deeply, tasting what the words had done to her mouth. He broke the kiss before it could deepen further.

"I've been waiting three years to hear that," he muttered just before kissing her again. She heard the crinkle of plastic but didn't look away from his eyes as he toyed with her mouth, seducing her into a kiss. He didn't need both hands to tease her anyway and she found it frustrating he was able to draw her under so easily. "You always did have to test my patience."

"I was going to tell you the day my memory was buried." She shifted under him as he slowly, and with practiced care, sank inside of her. He didn't move any further, just continued to lazily kiss her when she let him. "It…it had felt right then."

"Why then?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I felt safer than usual, maybe I stopped caring about how it could change me. It didn't really. Still a demon." She shrugged and kissed him back when his mouth stayed within her reach. He groaned and licked at her tongue before pulling back.

"And now?"

"I just want that feeling back." She looked away. "The last time I loved anyone that way was how I came to my first deal. If you run and fight for hundreds of years, scraping by with just what you are… you get tired when you keep losing."

He tipped her chin back to him and she saw his other arm brace over her head on the pillow. "You won't lose me."

Meg nervously tried to look away because the honesty burned. He stroked her cheek and watched her intently.

"You won't lose me, and it gets easier," he said. "Why do you think I was so willing to fight to stay with you now?"

"Sucker for punishment?" she jibed tiredly.

"I love you." He felt her hips arch into his, trying to get him to move, but he only shifted a little and kept settled on-top of her. "It was what kept me alive, even if I didn't remember why."

Meg swallowed and rested her hands on his shoulder. "Always terrifying then?"

"Always." He ran his fingers down her neck. "But worth it, I've learned. Angels love differently than humans, why would it be any different for a demon?" He kissed her again and murmured against her lips, "Say it."

"You're going to be annoying about this, aren't you?" she asked.

"One time won't hurt, Meg." He glanced over at his quiet cellphone. "And we're almost out of time before we go back."

She didn't answer him, just let the tension build and build. Castiel watched her face and bent his head to rest it on the pillow beside her, his body flexing as he moved a little. He felt her hands move over his bare skin, felt the slight prick of her nails skating tracks over his arms and chest. He could feel her thinking, he could swear, and he turned his head a little to touch her mouth with his.

He heard the three words, uttered with seriousness and a little bit of fear. "I love you," she admitted finally and she felt the weight of the words sink in and then release, the tension leaving her body.

Castiel pulled up a little, pushed her hair from her eyes and stared into the black depths, seeing his own reflection in them. Meg stared back at him, waiting for him to say something.

"That's my girl," he muttered, parodying her words long ago when he'd reawakened to an angel state. Meg let it go and felt the tension in her lower body building as he touched her. His heart was beating as fast as hers and she knew it had everything to do with her confession. It was why her own heart was beating so fast that it ached. Her arms slid around his shoulders and pulled him down onto her body, her legs wrapping around him tighter to keep him with her.

* * *

" _You might not think you're special, Dean,"_ Anna's voice, gravelly but sweet in his ear, made him shiver, _"but how much you care for those you think worthy of being family makes you special."_

Jerking awake on the sofa, Dean stared at the blue on the television screen for a long moment before groaning and rolling over to turn the screen off.

He felt restless again. A matter of a few days and he'd been bouncing off the walls.

They were overdue for a hunt for some sort of action.

He needed to get out so he could think clearly on what he needed to do.

Eyes on the ceiling, he blindly dialled Castiel's new number. The groggy hello he got in response made him simply plunge ahead. "We're going out on a hunt in the next few days. Kevin's here with Nyx. She'll be safe."

He heard the angel's protest just as he hung up.

* * *

Lying with her back to Castiel, Meg felt the tension go through him from his shoulders to his toes. He sat up and left her, his warmth gone immediately, and Meg kept her eyes closed instead of following him.

Hell, if he hadn't noticed how tense she had been just a few minutes before the phone call, he was blind. Even when he had made love to her, the playfulness they had shared before had turned into a sense of desperation and fear. He hadn't said anything at the aggressive way she had returned his touches, just slowed her down and told her he wasn't leaving her.

A confession of that magnitude for her should have lifted weight from her shoulders but instead she felt vulnerable. Like a nerve completely exposed and bare for a knife.

Without thinking, she reached down and touched the faint scar tissue between her breasts.

The running water, the sound of him dressing, eventually made her open her eyes to see him looking for his shoes under the bed. Throwing her knotted hair over her shoulder, sending the scent of sex, sulphur and rain through the air, she sniffed and sat back against the battered headboard. She even artfully positioned her legs just a little, so the smooth length of them were exposed seductively, but Castiel ignored it.

Right. Single minded angel was back.

"What's up with Rocky?" she asked half-heartedly.

"Dean said Kevin's returned and he thinks they need to go on a hunt."

Her eyebrow arched. "That's not news."

"They want to leave Nyx with Kevin." Castiel walked away and then stopped as he came to the armchair. Meg crossed her arms over her chest.

"You don't like the idea." At his look, she smirked and tucked the bed-sheet around her body. "You get all 'stone-wall-face', when you hate something." Her eyebrows lifted when he didn't smile. "Seriously?"

"I am not fond of the idea, no," the angel admitted as he took a seat.

"Thought your kind was all hot-to-trot 'I'll save you John Connor' when it came to the prophets."

He puzzled over the reference for a moment before understanding. "Yes. Our instructions, burned into us with Creation, is to protect all prophets. To protect the word." He made a show of looking out the window at the snow covered lot. "I just don't trust him."

"The Hellhound thing?" Blue eyes came back to her so sharply that Meg gave him an uneasy smile. "You're not the only one who can interrogate a prophet."

"Kevin's not the same man he was years ago. For a year or so I thought he was better but he's haunted. And so set in doing what he believes is right," Castiel said.

"Not so sure hurting Nyx is on his list," she responded, standing up and making her way over to him.

"I know." He sat back as she approached, and stared up at her. "But she may be hurt anyway."

He shuffled back as she straddled his lap and slowly sat down, hand going to his chest. There was nothing sexual about it, nor in the way her eyes roamed over his face or her hands tightened on his belt. He slid his hand into his pocket and fished out the necklace he'd been carrying for days now. Without waiting for her to say anything, he moved her hair aside and put the necklace back around her neck. The charms rested high on her collarbone and he traced them, feeling her skin prickle at his touch. The intimacy of the act, the way he smoothed his palm over her throat, felt right and he wasn't sure he could let go. Reluctantly, he looked up into her eyes and saw her almost regretful look.

"Honeymoon's over, angel."

* * *

Castiel felt guilty enough about the battered wall and bed frame that he went to the front office to pay for the damage before they left. The manager gave him raised eyebrows and a leer that made the angel uncomfortable enough to slide an extra ten down.

"How's the girlfriend?" the manager asked as Castiel quickly handed over some more cash to cover the damage they had done to the door. Castiel shrugged.

"She's fine."

Meg came in, brushing snow off of her hair and the manager gave the demon an appreciative look.

"I bet she is," he said almost lecherously and Castiel noticed him staring at her. Meg was apparently oblivious but he put his hand over hers to keep her from stealing from the charity jar. Or so he told himself. He stepped into her possessively and glared at the manager as if to seal off the rest of his small claim. The demon ignored it but the manager backed off.

As the older man turned away to finish the form, Meg put herself between Castiel and the front desk. He looked down at her as if wondering what was going through her mind. She smirked and then jerked him down to plant a hard kiss on his mouth. He couldn't stop his moan of surprise but in the next instance she slipped around him and out the door.

He blinked, staring after her.

The manager looked at him.

"Pretty girls always get your number?"

Castiel nearly answered when the Cougar roared by, tires slipping on the cement. Immediately, he patted his coat pocket find that Meg had stolen the car keys. "Oh."

The manager roared with laughter. "Keeps you on your toes at least?"

He turned to see Castiel's reaction but the angel was gone.

In the front seat, Meg grinned as immediately Castiel appeared beside her.

"That wasn't funny."

"It was a little funny." She looked over at him. "Amazing. Slip you a bit of tongue and you let me take what I want."

He was silent for a moment. "From what I remember." He held up the angel sword he had stolen back from her in the same moment she'd kissed him in the office. "You have the same weakness."

The wicked grin was back as she arched an eyebrow. "Not bad. And for your next trick?"

He didn't rise to the bait. "Just drive, Meg."

She turned onto the highway and then gunned it so hard that he rocked back in his seat. "You given any thought to what the hell we're going to do? We can't just stay in the bunker till the world ends."

He nodded. "I know."

* * *

Dean was shoving another round of silver bullets into his knapsack when he heard a familiar sound of air moving and the flutter of cloth. Turning, he jumped as Castiel stood just behind him in the low garage they kept to shelter the Impala.

"Where the hell did you come from?" The angel's look made him lift a hand. "Never mind, don't want to know. How'd the fake trails go?"

"Seemed to have worked." Castiel leaned back on the car.

Dean zipped his bag. "Good. How's your gal Friday?"

"She's Meg." There was a slightly lighter note in Castiel's voice that made Dean turn to look over at him.

"Ah. huh." He finished packing and closed the trunk. "You're in one piece at least."

"Not for her lack of trying," Castiel muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." He sighed and looked at the equipment he'd been packing. "Werewolves?"

"Louisiana pack. Month or so ago Sam and I had that pack down there. Told them to get lost and they didn't listen. So. We hunt." Dean shoved his hands in his pocket. The sight of Castiel back in civvies still was enough to freak him out, thinking about three years ago when human Castiel had been a source of almost daily worry. "You came back so soon because of Kevin?"

The angel looked away.

"Kid loves that little girl, Cas. He'd protect her."

"I don't have the luxury of being hopeful about Kevin, Dean." Castiel leaned back. "At all."

"Fine. You stay here, you go stir crazy." The hunter look more offended that Castiel didn't trust his judgement. "Let Meg pop you off for all I goddamn care." He started off for the interior garage and Castiel watched, puzzled as to why Dean was so touchy.

But rather than follow him, he zapped himself to where he'd left Meg. With Sam and Kevin researching, the bunker was almost tomb-like.

It would make this easier.

He saw Meg's unease as he came into the common room, where she was sitting on the coffee table. The long trip back had been full of silence, though most of it had been pleasant, and he knew she was thinking over his plan. That she hadn't picked a fight with him over it meant that maybe she was willing to go along with the idea for a little while. She wasn't sure what to make of his newest idea. Bundled up on the couch in a heavy pile of pillows and blankets, Nyx was sound asleep across from her.

"We could stay here," he offered as he came in. Nyx hadn't woken up when they came back and he had no heart to wake her.

"What's the point?" There was something defeated in her voice. "Either way, we have to find a way to keep running and maybe we need to leave. Let Winchesters do their thing and we do ours."

He moved to sit beside her. The old table squeaked a bit under their combined weight.

They both heard Kevin walking close by, yawning as Dean jostled him into the room. He called out Castiel's name and he helped Meg up. She stared up at him and he stared back before he put his hand on the small of her back and led her away. Leaving Nyx where she was, they walked to the archive room. Kevin looked half-asleep but surprised to see them, while Sam looked remarkably alert.

"You guys came back early," he said, actually sounding pleased.

"We needed to."

"Why? We were…"

"Nyx is leaving with them," Dean blurted out.

"What, you guys are going to practice the 'nuclear family' thing?" Kevin joked but Castiel refused to look at him. "I said I'd take care of her until you came back. You don't trust me?" One look at Meg's face made it clear what she thought and he blinked a few times as if trying to figure it out. "Seriously?"

"They're serious," Dean said. "No matter the favour we pulled for them."

Castiel and Meg both glared at him next but his surly expression hadn't changed.

"We've imposed on you all long enough. Eve's been distracted. We can hide elsewhere, keep her from finding the bunker. That way you are as safe as I can make you," Castiel said.

"You two? Together?" Sam looked at him suspiciously. "Weren't you at each other's throats before?"

Meg shook her head and looked up at the lights. "Not the point."

Kevin stared at Castiel. "Come on, man."

"Are you still having visions?" the angel countered. He met Kevin's almost desperate look and thought he saw guilt there, not realizing that the prophet clearly still saw the deaths of the hunters in his mind. Ripped apart, screaming for mercy. The angel simply stared and let him damn himself in a way that he couldn't hide.

"Not as bad. They aren't as focussed and clear." He nervously looked away and caught Meg's eye. "That vision of the hellhounds. I think it had more to do with you than with Nyx. A way of God telling me you'd be woken up soon."

"Anyone else know you had some visions?" Dean demanded. This was news to him and Sam about Kevin still having visions and he hid it well. But faced with an angel, he seemed to crack.

"No one. Garth did his best to calm the other hunters down but I can't say they aren't looking for Nyx or for the rest of you."

"Great."

Castiel sighed. "We'll leave."

"Might as well stay, where else can you go?" Sam offered. Meg eyed Castiel curiously. He had never answered that question completely for her either.

"We'll be fine. You both need to hunt, as you said. Kevin can research and we'll stay out of your way, do what he have to do. Thank you for what you did for us." He picked up his bag from the floor. "Meg?"

Almost reluctantly, she followed him to the common room. The brothers watched Castiel pick up the sleeping girl and Meg picked up a duffel bag she had set there before their small meeting. Angel and demon seemed quiet, too quiet, and neither Winchester knew what to make of it. There was a loud flutter and then the bunker suddenly felt empty without the three supernatural creatures.

* * *

They stood outside the small cabin, fresh fallen snow and the trees that surrounded its worn frame giving it even more of a rustic look. Standing at the rotted garden gate, Meg took in the familiar sight warily, even as Castiel boosted Nyx up in his arms. She muttered sleepily and moved closer into his warmth. Knowing she'd follow, he walked ahead of Meg, still cuddling Nyx close. The door swung open for him and he waited for Meg to walk ahead of him. The demon hesitated on the porch's threshold, her hands clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Castiel waited, letting her choose, and eventually Meg walked through the door into the front room. The furniture was covered in white sheets, the floors dusty and the air stale from being closed up for so long.

But the moment Castiel joined her, they felt the magic and wards pulse to life in welcome reaction.

The safe-house had woken up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I apologize for the delay on this. My original plan was to edit all of Lethe before reposting it to FF or AO3 but I've had to commit my time to another project. Apologies


	11. Ticking (When Angels Hide)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected revival of the safe-house creates a haven but Meg’s growing unrest has Castiel concerned that what passed between them is temporary. As Sam’s illness progresses and Dean deals with more heart pain, they realize that the cracks in what saved them three years ago have deepened and at the worst of times

_…Three years ago…_

_“Clarence, what have you done?”_

_“I wanted you safe. I really think you’ll like this place. It’s very warm and protected.”_

_~~_

_“ Did you build me a cage?” she gritted out._

_“I thought you’d like it.” Castiel sounded offended and as she turned around she saw him looking equally put-out with her. “I did it for you.”_

_~~_

_“This will be her room. She’s real. This is real.” She shook her head, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “This is real.”_

_~~_

_“So what do we do?” Meg demanded as he leaned on her. “We never talked about that. Visitation rights, who pays child support, whatever.”_

_“We protect her. That is all we should worry about.”_

_~~_

_Both brothers whistled as they came in. “Cozy,” Sam muttered, glancing at the way it was laid out._

_“Thank you. I worked hard at it,” Castiel said as he came in behind them and closed the door._

_“No one knows it’s here?”_

_“It is heavily warded to repel attacks from demons and angels among other things. It will keep them out and it remains hidden,” Castiel said as he followed Dean to the living room. “Meg needed a safe place.”_

_—_

**_Safe_**. That was the feeling that first came as the high ceilings and painted walls surrounded them. It was an old house,  made icy by the winter storm outside, so cold that they could see their own breath. But within the walls, there was an immediate sensation of protection. Reacting to their presence, it went through the house in a ripple of magic, as if the house itself were a living thing that was letting its own power fall around from ceiling in wave. Just as quickly, it disappeared. The wards reviving pulsed for a moment longer but then stopped in slow, exaggerated hums, until the house itself was as silent as before. As cold as before.

But that feeling of being sheltered remained.

Castiel looked around the small living room as he settled Nyx down on the big comfy arm chair close to the space heater. She was still wrapped up in the thick blanket he’d taken from the bunker, and despite how the house had reacted she hadn’t really woken up. Still caught in a dreamy state, Nyx made a sound while nestling down further, not minding the dusty chair or the cold, stale air. He watched her, ready to wake her up to see where they were, but then he felt her slipping deeper and deeper into sleep. Maybe it was better to let her rest, he thought, because knowing her she would ask endless questions.

Tucking her in tighter, he turned around to where Meg was wandering the small room as if looking for something. She had dropped her bag on the floor, and as he watched she began running her fingers over the white drapes and checking on the burned wards. Under the peeling paint, they had begun to show through and she traced an old Enochian ward to keep out enemies. Castiel wondered if she was reminiscing as much as he longed to; more had happened in this old house than he had ever expected.

She noticed him watching her. “I didn’t think it would still be standing.”

Considering everything that had happened since she had last been here, to find it relatively unscathed by time had been a shock. For both of them.

"I don’t know why I kept it, but I used a few spells here and there to hide it. It wasn’t hard," Castiel said. “No humans come out this far and it didn’t take much magic to create that illusion. I…maybe I was hoping I would need it again, sooner or later.” 

He moved away from Nyx and followed her into the kitchen area. Meg eyed the stains on the wall, painted wards from just before Nyx’s birth, and the empty glasses still on the table. Beyond the covered furniture, it was as if time had stood still in this place. She took a step to look out the rear window and her toe caught on a matchbox, tossed on the floor and surrounded by a small heap of matches. 

"What happened here?" The demon crouched and picked up the scattering matches, inspecting a few that had been struck and burned out, by the look of it. When she peered up at Castiel for an answer, he seemed almost uncomfortable. 

A darker memory, of coming back here as a human to rage at God and threatening to burn this place down, made Castiel look out at Nyx. “Nothing.”

Shrugging a slim shoulder, Meg decided not to push for answers she didn’t need and looked at the rear stairwell. “I thought you would have kept coming back here. A safe place for you to hide if you were human, that sort of thing.”

When she looked back at him, he was staring at her with that intense need again. “It wouldn’t have felt the same,” he admitted. 

Meg didn’t answer, just ran her hands over the counter and made a face at the slight film of powder her fingers tracked in. “Dusty, but hopefully everything still works.”

Castiel nodded and waved his hand at the generator just outside the window. “Everything else should be working. I think the electrical…”

As if on cue, the generator suddenly hummed to life, lights flickering on and the small radiator in the corner of the kitchen making a few rattling sounds. It buzzed louder and then with a small puff of dusty air, it began to work again. Heat and light suddenly flooded the cold kitchen, and everything seemed brighter and warmer.

But the only thing Castiel noticed was Meg. She was obviously unsure of what to think. Her eyes darted back and forth over the walls, the doors, the front windows, as if planning a route of escape.

"We can find another place," he offered. Her eyes flicked back to him sharply and he leaned back against the counter. "I know that this house has some unpleasant memories for you."

Both of them thought back to that last night spent in its walls and he cleared his throat while trying to think of another place to be.

But Meg only shrugged. “Not all of them were bad, Cas.” Ignoring how startled that admission made him, she nudged between him and the wall, not noticing the slightest lean he did in her direction. Muttering to herself about dusty ghost houses, she dragged one of the rickety wood chairs over beside table. Castiel watched her sit and then did the same, putting a chair just across from hers. Her dark eyes still wandered over the room as if absorbing the enormity of being here once again. 

"I guess I’m just surprised to see it still standing."

Castiel ran his palms together as he stared at her. “It is safe here, Meg.”

"As long as Azazel and Eve are both looking for us, we’re not safe."

"We’re safest together."

"That doesn’t mean very much, when you really look at it."

He tentatively touched her knee as he leaned in, forcing her to pay attention to him. “But you know that we can’t keep running with Nyx all across the country, trying to stay one step ahead. We need to plan our own way of dealing with this, of letting Dean and Sam do what they need to do. This is our fight, maybe it shouldn’t be theirs.”

She looked away and he narrowed his gaze a little, the hand on her knee still there as if to ground her to him. It wasn’t hard to read her thoughts just by her expression alone. 

"I’m not putting you in a cage, Meg." The way her head snapped back towards him let him know he had guessed right. "Meg, this is…"

"Nyx is going to wake up with questions, Cas." He waited as she tried to distract him, and he knew that she was starting to sort it out . Accept it in that way demons had when faced with a choice they weren’t sure they liked. "Are you ready for that?"

He actually looked insulted. “Yes.”

"Good."

—

Not for the first time she was dreaming of being protected and loved, warmed by light that kept tucked around her like a circle of feathery wings. The voices murmuring around her were familiar but she liked the way she was so warm and protected. There was nothing to be frightened of, her friends had said, she would be safe. Now even walking on the beaches in her dreams wasn’t scary; in those dreams she just buried her tiny toes in the sand and let warm water touch her in waves. Hearing voices, more real than the ones she sometimes heard, woke Nyx up a little from her deep sleep so that she was just bordering on the cusp of dreaming and waking.

“ _Are you ready for that?”_ Her mother’s voice. Nyx really didn’t remember when she was supposed to be back. Dean and Sam said soon when she had cried about missing her. Maybe she had come back early.

A deeper voice, just as familiar now, answered her mother with a simple, _“Yes.”_

_“Good.”_

Even though she was determined to stay asleep, Nyx cried out as something close by banged against a window and was followed by buzzing sounds and a loud crackle of something turning on. Pulling the blanket down, she opened her eyes to the dark room she was in and automatically saw monsters looming all around her. White massive things that loomed in the corners, dark shadows that swept around the room as the lights began to flicker on and off, and all of them scarier than the shadows of the bunker. With a small shriek, she buried her head in her arms. Part of her wanted to call out but she just flipped her blanket over her head and cuddled Clarence closer to her chest. He’d keep her safe, she thought, Clarence always kept her safe.

"Nyx?"

Something soft brushed her hands, like warm feathers, and she hesitantly opened her eyes to see a glowing halo of light. It eased a little, parting around the dark-haired man who was staring down at her, and she blinked and rubbed at her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

She pressed back into the cushions while tugging her toy up with her, disorientated by the darkness and the strange room. It smelled old, like the bunker, but she knew all the rooms in the bunker and this wasn’t one of them.

“Nyx? It’s us.” She felt a hand in her hair and tipped her head back to look up at her mother. Meg let her go and cocked her head on the side. The upside down sight of her mother caused Nyx to relinquish her death grip on the unicorn. She blinked a few times and then looked back down at Castiel. He had crouched down, on level with her, and she nervously began to twist her fingers into tiny clenched fists. 

“We came back.”

“Safe?” Nyx asked, looking up at Meg again. The demon nodded.

“For now.” The little girl’s eyes went to Castiel again and he sighed, reaching out towards her.

“You left me,” she said accusingly as she slid out from under his hands, getting to the floor and stomping around the room. It didn’t register to such a small child that the looming shadows now weren’t so scary to her because of her parents being here, keeping her safe. In the start of a temper tantrum, she set her toy down on the floor before she turned and planted her hands on her hips. Her cherub-innocent face was scowling, and she seemed irritated with them.

Castiel gave her a bewildered look and then glanced at Meg, who eyed Nyx while looking a little impressed. 

Seeing Meg starting to smirk, the angel sighed. “She’s more like you than I realized,” he muttered as he stood up and turned to look at his daughter.

“She just needs to know why we’re here. It’s not complicated, Cas.” Meg slid around him and took a seat on the couch. He muttered something under his breath and she nudged him with her knee to shut him up before speaking. “We’re in an old house, Nyx. We used to live here for a while. A long time ago.”

She looked up and around at the way her mother gestured around this room. “Why?”

“Because this place is safe.” Castiel sat beside Meg and watched the way Nyx crossed her arms over her chest next. She did such an incredible impression of her mother that it was like looking at a small clone. The unconvinced look she gave him made him glance at Meg for support. “I promise.”

Nyx fidgeted, coming a bit closer to them and dragging Clarence on the ground with her. “Don’t like it.”

Castiel sucked in a deep breath. He’d been glad Meg had come so willingly but he hadn’t anticipated Nyx not wanting to be here.

“Where did you want to go?” Meg asked but it sounded more like she was indulging the girl than giving her a real option. Nyx put her unicorn on the couch beside Castiel and looked deep in thought before pointing at the door.

“Bunker. Liked it.”

“Dean and Sam had to go on a hunt, Nyx. You’re safest here, with us,” Castiel said.

“Don’t want to.”

“You haven’t even seen the house,” he started and Meg stomped hard on his foot to get him to be quiet. Both angel and demon glanced at each other, because this had an eerie similarity to the way Meg had felt when she had first come here years ago. The petulant thrust to Nyx’s lower lip became more pronounced and he could only stare, surprised by the steel in those blue eyes. Muttering under her breath about stubborn kids, Meg stood up and walked over to her, pulling a few white sheets off the old furniture as she went. Nyx sneezed at the dust cloud that was smacked off, and wrinkled her nose a little. But both Meg and Castiel noticed how interested she was when the sheets revealed a stack of toys and books Castiel had left here years ago.

The demon walked a slow circle around Nyx, taking more sheets off. “You don’t want to stay here, huh?”

Tiny shoulders shrugged as she followed Meg towards the stairs. She slipped her hand into Meg’s and squeezed a little. “Scared.”

“Of what?” Meg asked, unable to keep herself from sounding surprised. Even though she had had her problems with Castiel’s actions three years ago in finding this place, she had never found it frightening. She opened the front closet  and found  that there were more dusty supplies, things Castiel had brought for them in the long, quiet weeks they had spent here alone. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget those days and now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to. Nyx came up beside her and peered in, picking up a small stuffed toy curiously.

But her silence was a problem. Typically when she was in a new place the first thing she did was investigate and ask a million questions all at once.

“Nyx, answer me.” Meg’s voice hardened just a little to get the response she wanted and she closed the door to look down on her daughter. Behind them, Castiel had stood and was leaning against the wall. At her stern glance, he started sifting through the books on the other shelf to appear as if he wasn’t eavesdropping. “No lying either.”

“Want to stay. But….” Her daughter’s face took on a look of childish frustration and Meg knelt when she pulled on her hand insistently. Reaching out, she took her small chin in her hand and held her steady so that she could look in her eyes. Nyx’s voice lowered, afraid of being overheard, and she pushed against her knees. The hard look in her eyes had left, softened by fear and concern that she was in trouble. “He’s gonna leave us.”

Meg sucked in a breath, surprised by her words.  She glanced at Castiel’s back and it was obvious by the tense set of his shoulders that he had heard. He dropped the book he was holding on to the floor and Nyx squeaked, jumping behind Meg for protection. The angel looked more distressed than Meg had seen in the past week, his mouth half-parted in grimace.

“She’s… she’s wrong.” He came towards them and Meg stood up, feeling Nyx squeeze behind her even further. “Meg, you know that.”

She arched a dark brow. “Don’t tell me, Cas. Tell her.”

The insightfulness she was showing shocked him and he stammered a little, hands clenching and unclenching as if trying to grasp for something to steady himself. Meg’s eyes darted down and he followed them to see Nyx peeking out at him. He hadn’t felt her so nervous around him since the week before his and Meg’s capture, but she was almost shaking from it, afraid she had done something wrong.

But as he looked at her, seeing her fear, he could understand it. He wanted her trust and experience had taught him that he needed to be patient when it came to a child who couldn’t understand how life had been three years ago.

Castiel knelt before Meg and she rolled her eyes up, clamping her lips shut to avoid saying whatever lewd thing that was on the tip of her tongue. He gave her a scolding frown and then looked back at the shadow she now had.

“Nyx? Come here.” He held out his hand palm up, patiently waiting for her. “Come on.” A tiny hand slipped into his and she moved so her head was around Meg’s legs, still clutching her leg with her other arm. The sudden shyness made him realize that he and Meg had left her behind last week, when she had still been scared. No wonder she thought that he might have left for good again. He squeezed her hand, felt answering pressure, and remembered to relax. “This place is safe.”

She gave him a frustrated look.

“I won’t leave you, like I did before.” Reaching out, he smoothed her hair back from her face and cupped her determined little chin with his hand. “I don’t want to do that again.”

Nyx sucked on her lower lip, eyeing him as suspiciously as Meg had once. The hand in his tightened again, her small nails digging into his skin a little. “Promise?”

If a human or demon had ever doubted his word again, Castiel would have been offended.

But one look at her eyes, seeing how desperately she wanted to believe in him, only made him entwine their hands so he felt the edges of her tiny fingers completely engulfed by his own. “I promise.”

Meg watched the pair of them, seeing how sincere he looked when faced with Nyx’s distrust, before she nudged her out. “Go on. Your father’s going to show you around and then you are back to sleep, got me?” She looked at Castiel who reluctantly looked away from Nyx to her. “Then we have to have a few words, Cas.”

Castiel thought his heart actually ached from being called Nyx’s father by Meg. The demon didn’t seem to realize how big a deal it was to him and he cleared his throat again, keeping his attention on Nyx instead. Nyx still looked rebellious as he pulled her forward a little, but she willingly went into his arms, looping her arms around his neck as he stood up. Meg stepped back and stared at them as he carried Nyx towards the kitchen. 

“Cas?” Her quiet injunction made him turn to see her picking up Clarence and the pile of books. Her back was to him but there was tension all in the set of her shoulders. “Don’t break your promise to her.”

Not sure how to respond, he nodded and turned his head to see Nyx staring at him. “I won’t leave,” he said again.

Nyx frowned. “Did once.”

“I had to but now I’m not leaving you like that.” All of Death’s words, about Nyx needing to grow as a human first, about how everything had been necessary, came back at once. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the little girl in his arms wasn’t all human, with her fears lying so close to the surface. “I promise.”

Her small hand played with the hair at the nape of his neck and she finally nodded again. “Okay.”

He paused at the door to the outside and ducked his head to stare in her eyes. “Nyx? Trust me.”

She hesitated, her fingers not moving for a while, and Castiel forced himself to wait. Then something a little lighter, something close to a smile, passed over her face. “Trust you.”

“Good girl.” Relaxing, Castiel boosted her up on his hip and carried her into the rear garden with him. The winter weather was like a slap in the face, even to him, and the brisk chill seemed to wake Nyx up a bit more. He tucked part of his coat around her and watched her face once he had stopped on the top step that led down the porch. Her eyes went wide at the array of winter-killed plants, the crisp snow covering what remained of the rusted fence and the distant trees, and when he felt her shiver, he pulled her closer to keep her warm. But Nyx’s pale face shone in the moonlight as she looked at the stars twinkling down overhead and he thought even her eyes glowed a little brighter. 

“This is your home,” he began but Nyx’s arm slipped from around his neck to point at the sky. The moon seemed larger out here, and the  cold air caused Castiel to realize that they might not be as ready for winter out here. Mentally he tried to think of all the things he had had to find as a human to keep away the cold but her excited gasp made him snap back to attention.

“Stars!” She squirmed around in his arms, hands outstretching as if to touch the distant sky. “I like stars. Even when they fall.”

He let her talk then, relieved to hear her questioning chatter, and did his best to answer her though he was surprised to see how, once she knew he would stay, she had changed. Nyx seemed brighter and happier than she had ten minutes ago. Castiel let her look for a while, until her skin turned a bit pinker from the cold. He was about to say they should go in when she finally turned back around to put her hands under his coat for warmth. Her head dropped on his shoulder suddenly.

“Are you tired?” he asked against the top of her head.

She shook her head, though her drooping eyelids betrayed her. Shaking his head fondly, Castiel carried her back into the house, past where Meg was scratching new wards on the doorframe. The demon eyed him as he passed her and brushed her hair with his free hand. Nyx’s sleepy questions about the house made almost no sense and he knew eventually she would think up new ones when she was more awake. Fishing out the keys from his pocket, he opened the stair doors and walked up before setting her down on the top level. 

“You were just a baby the last time you were here,” he explained. Nyx hovered behind him, running her hands over the walls curiously. As he opened the nursery door, he noticed her puzzling over an old painting of waves crashing against the shore. It had been in a junk pile when he had found it but he had liked it. Meg never had explained why she had hated it.

“Nyx? Do you remember this place?” It was a silly question, he thought. She’d been newborn, so young that her memories wouldn’t be more than a foggy idea. 

But she nodded. “Safe. safe-house.”

“That’s right.” He nudged the door open further. “You were born here.”

He went in first and was struck by a wave of nostalgic memory he hadn’t expected when faced with the four walls of the old nursery. He remembered Linda Tran helping him patch up walls in this abandoned place, before he had hidden it with magic and wards. Remembered painting it pale yellow because he hadn’t known if his child would be a boy or a girl. How he had tried losing himself in building a protective place for Meg instead of facing the depth of his feelings for both her and the life they had created. Instead of questioning why, he just knew he had had to protect them. That this place would keep them from falling apart and losing what they had.

Now he was here again and beyond that powerful sensation of its magic tickling his Grace, he felt what Nyx had felt.

_Safe._

The nursery hadn’t changed. It was still the warmest room in the house thanks to the radiators, the big windows letting natural light flood in so that it was likely the brightest room. The furniture was wrapped in white sheets, several baby clothes still piled neatly on a side table, and the bookcase was full of things he had thought he might read one day.

Suddenly, Castiel felt a pang for what could have been; a pain so sudden seemed to twist deeper than before. His breathing went shallow because after returning to being an angel, after finding Meg and Nyx again, he hadn’t expected to still feel such regret.

Small fingers slipped into his and he looked down to see Nyx pressed against his leg. Her eyes were wide as she took in the books, the old dressers, and the crib in the corner. “My room?” she asked him and Castiel made a sound in his throat for a yes. He remembered that very first night of her life when he and the Winchesters had held the crying girl and almost all of them had been entranced by how fragile life was. It was still too clear to remember that month spending hours here, watching her slow growth and how he had felt protecting her.

His eyes closed because just as clear was that memory of saying goodbye to her and Meg. Before he could turn away, he felt her pull a little on his hand.

“Don’t be sad.”  With a smile, she tugged him down and crawled up into his arms. He expected her to need a boost, so she could look around, but when she kissed his cheek and hugged him, Castiel was stunned enough that he nearly dropped her. “You promised. We’re safe.”

“We are,” he muttered against her dark hair, closing his eyes and letting himself relax into her tiny embrace. 

He heard a click behind him and turned his head to see Meg standing in the doorway. Her hand was wrapped in gauze, likely from warding with her own blood, but her attention was on the room. Her eyes seemed to widen as she looked all around at the familiar settings. Castiel stroked Nyx’s back and turned a little to watch Meg. She set down the heavy bag she had packed for Nyx, with Clarence and her clothes, and then looked up. She studied him for a second, something withdrawn in her expression, before she turned away to make her slow way down the hall.

“You need sleep,” he told Nyx, and her drowsy murmur let him know she wasn’t about to fight him. The crib wouldn’t work as a bed but he spotted the cot the Winchesters had used tucked in the corner. It smelled a bit musty but the blankets were safe and warm, rolled up and kept clean. Setting Nyx down again, he quickly pushed it against the wall and padded it down with the throw pillows and blankets, shaking them out so that there was no dust and that it smelled clean. 

When he found the baby blanket still in the crib, he scooped it up and then stopped himself. His fingers rubbed over the material, the soft down catching on his fingers and he tightened his fingers around it, crushing the blanket. He remembered how the Winchesters had taught him how to wrap her up properly to keep her warm as a baby, remembered using it to keep her warm whenever the generator had backfired.  That such a tiny thing could actually give him even more memories of that month made him suck in another deep breath. Maybe returning here hadn’t been the best idea, he thought. Facing all of what had been made him wonder if he had made the wrong choice years ago with how much he had lost. 

Nyx’s grumbling about being sleepy snapped him out of it and he turned to see her already climbing onto the cot. 

Her outstretched hands took the blanket from him and he picked up her unicorn next, tucking it in with her as well. Her blue eyes, half-closed, wandered over his face as if committing him to memory. A bit unnerved by that look, he touched her head and used a tiny fraction of his Grace to push her to the deep sleep he knew she needed. Nyx yawned, her eyes closing as she buried herself under the heavy blankets and pillows, and within seconds she was asleep. Castiel glanced at the moonlight shining through windows and decided to leave the blackout curtains open as he left, leaving the door half open.

It didn’t take him long to find Meg. He hesitated outside the bedroom, feeling her there, and then pushed the door open. She was nearly motionless, sitting on the old arm chair tucked near the heater. Castiel glanced at her and then around the room. Her clothes from before were still thrown around, messy and chaotic how she liked it though now coated with a fine layer of dust, and the bed still had the vague signs of an imprint in the sheets. After three years, it was as if they hadn’t left.

“She was born in here,” Meg commented. “Funny. Never expected an old house to have so many memories, huh?”

Castiel ignored her, sensing she wasn’t looking for more answers, and stripped the sheets off the bed to toss them into the corner. Meg watched the slight domesticity as he slapped the mattress free of dust before he sat and faced her. “We could leave,” he offered again when the silence dragged too long. Meg didn’t say anything.

The room itself almost seemed to have memories staining every surface. Even sitting here brought it all back in a rush.

“We spent a long time in that bed to pass the time,” she pointed out with a grin that didn’t light up her eyes as it should have. 

“We could burn it,” Castiel muttered darkly, slightly annoyed by how lightly she was taking this.

Meg sighed. “No point, Cas. We’re here. We made a choice.”

“As long as Nyx is safe, that’s all that matters.” He ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. “But what is the point?”

“Nyx is little, Castiel. She’ll trust you if you make it easy for her to trust you. She knows who you are. But maybe that’s why she’s afraid you’ll leave.”

He heard the underlying threat there. How deeply she felt for him had been obvious last week but when faced with what she saw as her responsibility, she was as protective as he was. So he ignored any insult he had felt before from her over it.

“We’re here together.”He lifted his head and looked up into her eyes. “We can trust each other.”

Meg stared at him for a long, silent moment, her breathing deep and her eyes impossibly dark. But eventually her gaze dropped away, a slow movement as if she was reluctant to look away from him. Castiel watched her sit back and her eyes fixed on the overhead skylight.

Castiel looked down. Remembered the strange emotions an angel never should have felt that had happened here. His anger at her being cagey in those first months; the confusion that of all beings he could have this with, it was a demon and he was an angel; his moments of love and hate that had blended so perfectly; the utter fear when Nyx had finally come and he learned what it was being the father a child would need. 

Judging by the way Meg stood, paced a bit before she took a seat beside him, she was remembering as well. She leaned her head back and stared up at the skylight. She let herself slip herself slowly, ever so slowly, onto her back,  and Castiel leaned on his elbow to watch her.

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked and she didn’t answer. But he read her automatic response and put his hand on hers. “You do have a choice.”

Her head turned toward him and Castiel looked at her profile thoughtfully. The scepticism in the look wasn’t softened or guarded. Just there plainly for him to see.

“I know.” Her eyes closed as she slowly turned her head back and looked up at the sky. Castiel watched her, on the verge of bending over to kiss her when she rolled to the side and stood. As he watched, she made her way to the door, each step dragging as if she didn’t want to leave the bedroom. “I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt.”

—-

Though he didn’t have any supernatural senses, Dean was sure that he could smell his prey. The earthy musk of animals and trees, sweat and blood; all of it was letting him know he might be on the right track. The blood was from the carcasses that had been dragged through this part of the woods, strewn flesh stripped from the bones by the dense brush, likely even picked up by scavengers and then discarded as too rotten for even them. It was an overwhelming combination of smells and he could barely keep down the urge to throw up.

Dean knelt in the brush path with his flashlight going over where branches had been broken and mud tossed up. It looked, to him, like a large animal had come tearing through this area and stumbled around, trying to dig a hole before giving up. The discarded body of a deer had been chewed up and mangled, but at least the group of teenagers out for a beer binge were okay after a brief scare. Whatever had come this way had guessed that it was about to be hunted and had been desperate to get out. Smart thing.

Laying his hand out flat, Dean tested a paw-print’s depth and edges, looking for any sign of different imprint. It was larger than a werewolf’s normal print, one of the biggest he had seen. It still felt hot, as if the werewolf had just been here and stood long enough to let its body heat absorb into the muck. 

Resting his shotgun against his thigh, he dabbed his fingers into a spot in the print that was darker than the rest. The feel of it was different than sweat or snow, and he shone his flashlight over his fingers. They were sticky with old blood, clotting so badly from the cold that he immediately wiped his hand on his jeans. It wasn’t unlike a werewolf to take off when it figured out there was hunters, but wounded would make it more vicious until the moon faded. 

A snap of a branch behind him had Dean whirling, gun lifted and just nudging under his armpit, ready to shoot.

“Mind not trying to blow my brains out?” Sam asked, hands in the air as he came out from the trees. Aware of his pounding heart, Dean released the breath he had been holding and managed to remember to glare at him. He lowered his gun and shook his head.

“You should know better than to sneak up on me. One of these days I’m going to shoot you.”

“I bet.” Sam shone his flashlight over the area. “He came this way?”

“Or she. Whatever it was, it was big.”

They were still in the south part of Kansas, where the winter snow hadn’t quite hit as hard. It was still cold enough to cause Dean to curse not following through on their plans but the stories about a werewolf pack still hanging around had kept them from going to Louisiana as planned. Instead, they had started tracking and waiting for another sign of more activity. The kills had been clustered around one small town,  with the livestock slaughtered, but the death of two boys in the woods a week ago had caused people to sit up and take notice. Which meant it was time for them to step in and hunt.

“You think it’s Mark’s pack?” Sam asked as he knelt down.

“Told him a while ago to get back to Maine.”

Sam tested a paw-print. “Like a werewolf would do as we say just because we say it. We aren’t that special, Dean.”

Dean was about to answer that affectionate snark when he heard another loud crack behind them and whirled again. “You hear that?” he whispered loudly.

Sam stood up and adjusted his own gun holster. “Yeah, sounded close.”

Giving him a two finger signal to get back to the side, Dean shone his flashlight directly into the brush. Two yellow eyes, glowing in the light, shone back as a growl deepened to full fledged roar. But instead of leaping out, the monster in the trees stepped slowly. A one-two track, like dance steps being taken so carefully, so lightly, that not even the brush crackled. For some reason, it made Dean’s normally cool nerves about hunting werewolves start to fray.

The way it loomed over Dean at nearly eight feet high with its burly chest bursting with muscle so damn terrifying. He swallowed and backed up a step, sneezing when the air turned hot and musky. This wasn’t a werewolf like any he had seen before. It looked more deranged and contorted, muscles tortured and rippled around its bones in twists and ropey sinew that wasn’t naturally puffed up. As if its entire body didn’t really belong to the rest of the grotesque skeletal frame.

"You’re a big fella, huh?" Dean asked as he carefully backed up. In the brush, Sam was undoing the ropes they had packed, re-knotting them up and to his side Dean held out his hand.

The werewolf leaned down and roared at him, while lowering its head until the snarling mouth was inches from his face. Spittle flew out of its mouth to coat Dean’s face in algae smelling chunks that ran thick down his face. With a disgusted groan, Dean wiped it off and glared up at the monster.

"Thanks, but I’m not really into that," he said. He took another step back and the werewolf swiped out at him with front paws that were the size of his head. Dodging the blow, he sidestepped around so that the werewolf was closer to Sam. It whirled and charged at him again, snapping at the air as Dean ducked again, gasping for breath when he was shouldered to the side. His heart was banging harder and harder inside of his chest and it distracted him enough that he had to duck to avoid having his throat slashed open. Dean slammed his elbow into its gut and was knocked down hard by the monster’s swinging its head into his back.

With accuracy learned a long time ago, Sam swung the rope he had been knotting around the creature’s neck and yanked hard so it twisted into a tight noose. Instantly, it growled and took off around Dean, hunched body lumbering around. Rolling to get his tossed gun, Dean had to take deep, calming breaths as he aimed for its knee.

But before he could get a shot off, the werewolf took off on all fours, shrieking as if it was terrified of being snared. Startled, Sam shouted and his heels dug into the dirt to try to stop the tremendous strength yanking him off of his feet, but the monster has taken off. It roared again, howled when it realized that Sam was still attached and suddenly moved up into a recklessly fast run. Sam was thrown off of his feet and he tasted snow and dirt as he was dragged face-down across the brush, the werewolf’s baying turning almost sinister. The blur of trees going by made Sam clench his hands tight around the rope and try to pull himself up despite the speed he was being dragged with. Rope burning hot and rough between his fingers, he was dragged for several minutes until the werewolf took a sudden turn that sent him head first into a tree with a brutal crunch. 

The werewolf skidded to a stop at the sudden dead weight on the rope and turned on the big Winchester, growling loudly and baring its teeth. Body arching in ripples, as if it was struggling to get free from its own monsterous form, it hunched down onto its forearms. A loud whine began to keen through the air as it crawled slowly forward. The whine dropped to a loud snarl as it began sniffing at his face, tongue peeking out to taste his skin. Sam’s eyes fluttered but he didn’t wake up as its fangs dripped black venom onto his face before it opened its mouth towards his vulnerable throat.

"Hey!" Dean leapt through the brush and shot a round off mid-leap, absorbing the kick-back with a grunt of pain. The aim was true enough that it blew a small hole into its back. The werewolf roared, twisting around as if to grab the silver bullet out of the wound, and collapsed away from Sam while still twitching. With one eye on the monster, Dean bent and put his finger on Sam’s pulse before he nudged him with his foot. He could see the blood from the small wound where the tree had scraped up his forehead and the small swelling that was growing on his temple. "Thought you’d be hard headed by now, Sam. Get up."

His brother groaned as he finally regained full consciousness. “Shut up, jerk.”

Giving him an almost too rough pat on the cheek, Dean turned to where the werewolf had fallen.

The sight of the naked woman twitching and moaning made his eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline. Nudging Sam with his foot again, he stared at her and lifted his gun to train it on her. She looked nothing like the bulky monster she had been, her body was nearly too thin, and she was clearly in pain. Even just rolling to all fours seemed to cause her agony.

"Hurts," she whispered, struggling to get up. “It hurts!”

"You… you were that werewolf?"

Dean had never seen anyone change that fast back and he was pretty sure she wasn’t pureblood. 

Her lower lip thrust out and she cried out again. “It burns! Make it stop!”

Before Dean could move forward, someone burst through the brush across. Dean raised his gun and eyed down the barrel until he saw the familiar face of a pureblood they knew. It was startling to see Mark in human form after dealing with another werewolf, considering how easily he could change back and forth. The werewolf raised his hand, his eyes glimmering yellow at Dean as he bared a set of elongated canines at him. 

"Leave her alone." Sam and Dean stared, confused as he bent to the woman’s side and touched her hair. "It’s me, Sophia. It’s me."

"We told you to get out of Kansas," Dean threatened, still so confused all he could do was threaten the pureblood.

"We couldn’t leave," Mark snapped.

"Why?" 

Mark turned the werewolf around in his arms, trying to help her move but every small movement seemed to cause her pain. His lips parted in an animalistic snarl as he lost the fangs and his eyes went back to a normal, softer colour. He looked at them both over his shoulder. “You Winchesters, you’re like every goddamn hunter. Shoot first, ask questions later.”

Not wanting to deal with his threats, Dean shot again into the tree. It sent a spray of bark that made both werewolves tremble and lower their heads. “Answer me! Now she attacked us, likely killed those kids, and we’ve killed a lot more for a lot less.”

"She’s not herself."

"Much as a werewolf could be," Sam muttered. Unlike his brother, he was watching both werewolves very closely. "But, Dean, look at her."

Dean gave an annoyed grumble and lowered his gun a little more. They took a few steps forward together and he leaned over to look at the werewolf female. Both Winchesters could see something wrong with the woman Mark was trying to wrap up in his coat. Her veins were pronounced through her papery-thin skin, so that it was like they could actually see the blood moving thorough just under her skin in black trails. Every time her head turned it seemed to be an effort and her mouth went slack, fluid dripping from her mouth dark and thick.

"She’s sick," Mark whispered, getting up and leaving her on the ground. He stalked towards them until he was only a few feet away, ignoring the gun pointed at his stomach. "Most of my pack is sick."

"Werewolves get sick?" Dean asked, nearly transfixed by the sight of the diseased werewolf.

"We took in a new member, a youngster from Maine. She attacked Sophia and Chris, my youngest members. I’ve already dealt with her but Sophia started show the same side-effects. Started hunting everything that breathed." Mark cracked his neck. "Lots of my kind are having to move out from their usual territories. I mean, I never liked running in packs in the first place but now someone is calling to them. You obey the call or you die."

"What do you mean?" Sam looked over his shoulder at the half-dead woman and her empty eyes opened to stare back at him. "Eve is calling you?"

The pureblood gave them a shifty look. “You know about the Mother?” Dean cocked his gun again and he cursed. “Of course you do.”

“Look, make with the chat or I start blowing holes in you.”

“Cute.” Mark’s back rippled, as if to undergo a change but then he stopped himself so that he was still a smaller human. “I only ran into trouble when I started running with these youngsters in the first place. A lot of us don’t run in packs, you know. But I thought it was time to look at having family. Sophia was… is… well, you should have seen her. So beautiful and I was willing to love her though she wasn’t usually my type. Sometimes it is better, you know, to run with other werewolves. Someone that will get what you are and it tends to be more understanding. We’re a dying breed after all. And to lose one of our one pack to this illness is something all of us would feel.”

He looked over the heaving girl, his lips pursed into a small bow. Neither Sam nor Dean knew what to do when faced with the reality that the reason why Mark was rambling was because he was grieving.

Mark’s jaw went tight. “That new girl brought her sickness into my pack and infected Sophia. The Mother’s fever is changing her into something I can’t control. Something I don’t like.”

Before either brother could move, Mark had his arms wrapped around the werewolf. She was already starting to change again, a death throe last attempt to escape, and her tiny body was already starting to fill out into something terrible. Turning her away from them, Mark growled and snapped her neck easily, the crunch of bones echoing in the woods. Disgusted, Dean and Sam both looked away as he finished killing her more thoroughly than a silver bullet might have.

When he turned to face them, his eyes were yellow and his mouth fanged.

“Go on. Shoot me.”

But though Dean raised his gun, he didn’t pull the trigger. He hesitated, finger just on the ridge of it as he debated on what to do. Sam looked at him and finally he put the gun down. It wouldn’t solve anything.

“You said it was Eve that did this?” he asked.

Mark’s fangs bared but he didn’t step close, wiping his bloody hands on his pants. “That new girl told me she’d touched the Mother, that she’d been given something as a gift. When we all rejected it, she attacked Sophia and the others. There’s only me left now.”

“Sickness. Eve is changing them.” Sam turned his head to look around, half-expecting another werewolf to leap out. “She did a number on her, Dean.”

“We aren’t in the middle of this for nothing.” Dean let out a long, slow breath. “Are any of the others sick?”

“There’s werewolves all over the state, you guys just never realized it. I’m sure there’s been a few. That’s just us, I can’t tell you if something is going on with the vampires or shifters.”

The Winchesters felt the same thought go through them but it was Sam who spoke first, “Warn them all to stay away from Eve. Your Mother is going to cause the same thing to happen in them and I bet you don’t want that.”

Mark eyed them as they circled him towards the path that led out. “You’re letting me go again? My family?”

“It’s conditional. You check what others are in the area, let us know if they’re sick. You know my number,” Sam said. “If you don’t, Dean gets to have open season on you. We won’t be far away.”

Suspicion in his very body, Mark turned away from them but Dean cleared his throat as he  started to leave.

“How devoted is your kind to your ‘Mother’, werewolf?”

He hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “Less than you think, Winchester.” His eyes dragged over Dean and then Sam. “We don’t all blindly love our family, despite their faults.”

Turning back to his pack-mate’s body, he bent and gently took his coat back from her naked body. He heard the Winchesters leaving, the distant slam of car doors and the purr of the Impala’s engine. Left alone to grieve, he debated on doing a more wolfish thing and howling to vent his frustration. But he restrained himself in favour of looking for a place to bury her. He owed her that much before he returned to do as they asked. The old pureblood styled himself as a more honourable type of monster and he didn’t like the thought of being hunted by the Winchesters yet again.

The human smell behind him made him smile wanly. Maybe he’d spoken too soon.

“Changed your mind, eh, Sam?” he asked and he turned slowly.

He only caught a glimpse of the hunter behind him before the silver blade buried and twisted deep into his heart. The reaction was instantaneous, death roaring up to meet him, and he chortled for breath while trying to see more. But all he saw was hate and anger in those dark eyes. He collapsed beside the other corpse, twitching and dying as he bled out on the mud and snow. The howl that had been bubbling up in his throat died as a low, pitiful moan.

—-

The crackle was familiar, a snick and snare of fire dancing around. The same hungry snap of flames licking and charing dry twigs, the same low hiss of them devouring the fodder. What was missing was its end, when the fuel ran out and there was nothing more to feed it. Fires died, eventually.

All except for Hellfire and he hadn’t fed this fire in over a week.

Hand out over his small stone fire-pit, Crowley debated on the merit of roasting duck or some other luxury meat over the flames he’d taken from Hell itself. Never dying, they gave him a warm glow and reminded him vaguely of home. Seeing the flames flicker did make him strangely hungry, even a little bit thirsty, in a way that only an insatiable demon could be hungry. The Hellfire merely complimented his lavish settings and the expansive backyard of the mansion he’d taken as residence this time. A place any human or demon would have been jealous of.

In the weeks since his deal with Meg, that slipshod way of keeping his own head on his shoulders, he’d gone back to his preference for the finer things in life. Lucrative soul deals, mansions, pretty boys and girls at his bidding; perfect for a demon of his stature. It was a life he hadn’t realized that he had missed. 

On one hand, he had ruled Hell, his truest ambition, and power had been an incredible benefit.

But on the other, there was something to be said for staying just under that level of pay grade. Luxury was in having underlings to do his bidding but no demon out to kill him for being the King of Hell. Technically. It was for the better anyway. He knew he couldn’t contend in a place that, since his rule, had descended to pure, mismanaged chaos. The way Abaddon had liked it.

“Sir?” The patio doors swung open, and a model perfect girl stepped through the glass. “You have a visitor.”

Crowley cursed under his breath, having just decided on smoked duck and scotch for the evening. “Who is it?”

The demon opened her mouth to answer, stalled by a hand wrapping in her hair. She shrieked as she was twisted back around and shoved into the house without any warning, and Crowley barely managed to keep himself looking calm. The redhead who slipped through the doorway with a sensuous, cat-like movement was a threat to her very core just in the way her red lips were curled in a smirk. She looked left and right, studying this place Crowley had stolen from an unsuspecting human. Leather clad, she was incredibly out of place in the English-style gardens but yet somehow more dangerous because of it.

“Crowley.”

“Abby.” He drawled the nickname just to watch her smirk fall to a frown. “How goes the war, darling?”

Determined to see unthreatened by her presence, he poured her a drink from the nearly empty bottle of scotch and dangled it enticingly from his hand. The Queen of Hell snatched it from him while with the other hand she dragged out one of the patio chaises so the metal screeched on the flagstones. Crowley winced in reaction and then watched her as she took a seat, curling her long legs beneath herself in an almost innocent pose.

“Nearly over.” She sipped at her drink but her eyes never left his over the rim of the glass. “Thousands of monsters, lying dead or imprisoned. Funny how they die the same way in Hell that they would in Purgatory. Blood is just soaking the floor of the Pit itself.” Her curled lips suddenly turned up into a dreamy grin. “It is wonderful.”

Even Crowley had to admit that Abaddon looked beautiful when her viciousness was so plain to see. The momentarily lustful thoughts that crossed his mind about his business partner made him uncomfortable enough that he fluttered a hand in the air to dismiss them. There was a reason why her stranglehold on Hell had settled so nicely; there were few demons now that the Knight didn’t fear. The old ones she had respected but slaughtered all the same when they stood in her way, and he was sure only a demon much older, much more powerful, would cause her to cower. Screwing with Abaddon at this point would equate suicide.

“Still haven’t figured it out, I assume?”

“Oh, I did. After you ran like a dog with his tail between his legs.” A thin eyebrow arched and he gave her a winning grin that didn’t fool her at all.

“Well, I am a lover, not a….”

“Please. You’re a backstabbing toad, Crowley. It wasn’t a surprise but so long as you didn’t fuck me over, I’m willing to trade my not killing you for information.” She took another long sip and leaned back. “Tell me about Meg.”

He paused mid-reach for his own glass. “So you heard?”

“You’re not the only one with spies. She’s alive. How… unexpected.”

“So is the child she whelped.” He watched her expression close off. “Ah, so you didn’t know that exactly.”

“I’ve been busy.” Abaddon’s red-tipped fingers tightened into fists. “How is she still alive, Crowley? I thought you would take care of that.”

“Turns out Castiel did a little disappearing act on her. Not sure the details but it was safe to say they were on outs when last I saw them.” He wiggled his glass so the ice cubes clicked together. “Such as it was.”

The Queen’s eyes were like ice jewels in her pale face. “The whore. She willingly bore that Abomination. Rejected her own family.”

Crowley wondered at how viciously the other demon spat out the insults.   

Her teeth made an audible grin. “I heard you made a deal with Meg, Crowley.”

“All in the interest of self-preservation, love.” At her look, he shrugged. “I’m not stupid enough to challenge Meg on my own without some sort of plan. She’s provided routinely difficult to kill you know.”

“Yes, I remember that.” Abaddon finished her drink. “Why else?”

“You know that Eve is topside?” At her nod, he looked around his garden. “Turns out she is very interested in Meg and her brat, from what I’ve learned. Meg made the deal with me to get me to back off.” He left out the details, about Azazel’s supposed resurrection that he figured for a lie by now.

“Why does Eve want Meg of all people? She attacked _me._ ”

Crowley glared at the demon. “Do I look like someone Eve wants to talk to? I did do quite a number on her the last time.” 

Abaddon went to speak and then seemed to think it over. “No. Of course not. She hates demons. What about the angels?”

“Still all a-flutter about becoming peace-loving pansies, in my guess. They haven’t been around either.”

Abaddon tapped her nails on her glass thoughtfully. “Then why haven’t you made a move at all? You have my men at your disposal.”

“Two guess. First one won’t count,” Crowley said darkly. “He’s a blue-eyed dreamboat with wings, likes to make a nuisance of himself and, like Meg, is nearly impossible to kill.”

The demons sat in silence together, awkwardly both remembering their own wounds caused by the angel they both thought of. Eventually, Abaddon sat forward. “What about him? Castiel? The last I saw of him was when he led those angels into Hell to recover those souls last year. Nearly decimated a Legion of ours to get them.”

“Since the deal with Meg, I haven’t heard much.” Crowley did find it fascinating that she wasn’t interested in the Winchesters this time. Then again, her losses against Castiel had been embarrassing enough. It was a matter of pride for every demon, the Wars in Hell, and she had watched her best forces being destroyed. He did shrug. “Knowing him though, if it concerns Meg and this child?”

He grinned at how she looked at him so sharply.

“Let’s just say that Daddy came back in full force.”

Abaddon hissed. “So he is still set on protecting them.”

“Well, angels rarely reproduce. No wonder he’d act like an overgrown pigeon brooding over a nest.” He lifted his nearly empty glass to his mouth and then stopped, considering her with a shrewd look. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Find her. Kill her. Kill them both.” The demon spoke so sharply that each word felt like a knife blow.

“Me?” Crowley snorted. “Not a chance, darling. I saw first hand what Castiel was willing to do to protect his entire family, let alone those two. Somehow I think you are underestimating him completely.”

Abaddon tightened her lips into a thin line as she controlled her temper. “Trade then. Get the hunters to find them, offer the child to the angels or offer them Castiel. If the child has any powers at all, she can be used. But Meg dies, regardless, for this betrayal to her own family. I want her skinned. Maybe the angel can watch to see his pet die.”

“Ah well, that will be a problem.” He tipped his glass back and finished off the rest of the liquor. Standing with a flourish, he walked over to his outdoor bar, backing away from her. He didn’t trust her not to knife him in the back. “There are complications when it comes to Meg that run deeper than you realize. Ongoing… problems.”

“What kind of problems?” she asked in a deadly low voice.

“Why do you think he won’t give her up?” Crowley shrugged as he unscrewed the cap of his best scotch and poured a large amount into his glass. “It is nothing so simple as an angel who owes a favour to a demon, even without the child involved. It is complicated.”

Her bright eyes glittered in annoyance. “How complicated are we talking?”

“He loves her.”

The silence that followed his blunt statement wasn’t startling, but he could see Abaddon’s eyes widen in a bit of shock. He took a long, lingering sip of his scotch and watched the Queen digest this new tidbit. He had only figured it out himself when he had watched Castiel closely before. Abaddon did not know the angel very well but she had been rather attached to Meg at one time; she was taking this betrayal personally. Which was perfect.

Her jaw jutted out and then her entire face tightened into an ugly scowl. “It changes nothing. Find a way to sell him out to the angels if you have to. We both know that whatever that child is will be a bargaining chip. When she was born we all felt it.” Her eyes were black. “We felt it like a knife twisting in.”

“So. Kidnap the girl, kill Meg and sell out Castiel to the angels?” He turned back around to fill his glass even more. “You are just full of tall orders, aren’t you?”

He felt her anger at his mockery, but at the same time felt something much older, much darker, just at the edges of his senses. His head snapped to the left to try to locate what it was, where it was, but he couldn’t see anything. 

“Yes, she is, isn’t she?” 

The newest voice was ice cold with a hint of malice, almost too young for that sort of coldness. It was the tone of voice that was familiar instantly to both demons. Crowley and Abaddon both whipped around to face the young man who stood in the doorway. Crowley’s guards lay dead at his feet and the intruder seemed completely bored by it. The young, narrow face he wore wasn’t the last they’d seen him in but even without  looking directly in his eyes, Crowley knew who it was. Like Abaddon, he could see under the skin to what was really hiding behind the shell of a meatsuit. Someone he had done his best to avoid even centuries ago.

“Azazel,” he whispered.

The powerful but very much should-be-dead Azazel stood before him.

Acting on instinct, Abaddon leapt up with her power slicing through the air. It shattered the flagstone into shards around them to try to wound the apparent ghost of their once-leader.  She even reached out to try to hit him but he side-stepped her neatly, ignoring her howl of fury. Crowley spun, ready to run as he always did. 

Like a patient parent disciplining his children, Azazel lifted his hand in the air. “Oh stop it, both of you.”

The dark wave cascaded over them, to the point that Crowley thought his own bones would leap through his skin, and set them to the ground. Abaddon shouted in pain as she was thrown onto Crowley and they were shoved face first into the cement. As powerful as they were, they felt his power like a physical, choking _thing._ They were twisted about, shaken like rag dolls, and then turned around again to land on their hands and knees.

His body aching, Crowley looked up through bleeding eyes as Azazel sat on the ground across from him and Abaddon. The older demon brought his one knee up towards his chest and watched them closely.

“Why is it that you two, a demon who would hardly be my pick of the litter and a Knight who never did learn her place, are ruling Hell?” he asked in a conversational tone.

Crowley spat out a mouthful of blood. “So it’s true. You’re alive.”

Yellow eyes, multifaceted and evil, fixed on him. “Don’t seem so disappointed, Crowley. You’ll hurt my feelings.”

“How?” Abaddon croaked, her own pale skin bloodied at her cheeks and forehead. “The Winchesters killed you!”

“Luck.” His head twitched violently to the side before he fixed it. For a moment his eyes were blue and then yellow. “And something you might call divine intervention.”

Both demons tried to fight back at the same time, sending the power of Crossroads and Legions back at him, and he rolled his eyes as he tapped his fingers on his knees. Crowley and Abaddon both started choking as his response was a wave of power that squeezed on their insides. “Enough. For starters, you forget that I helped birth your little areas of expertise. Secondly, I have no interest in killing either of you. I have much bigger game in mind and you are both useful, so naturally I want to know all your plans. Hell doesn’t have as much interest for me right now but you two… you two can tell me something of it.”

Slowly, his fingers moved in circles on his own flesh and rivulets of hot fire went down their bodies in a sensation of agonized ecstasy. It made both of them twitch in confusion. “After all that talk of killing Meg, I admit my interest was peaked. But to find you both here, away from your armies?” He clicked his tongue several times. “I really didn’t teach you as well as I should have.”

“She deserves death!” Abaddon spat out. He hummed quizzically, as if to encourage her. “All of that training, your faith in her as family, even her loyalty to Lucifer, but she really was as Crowley said. A whore.”

Crowley’s forehead furrowed, not liking being pulled into this. “To be fair? I never expected her to be Castiel’s whore.”

“Mmm.” Azazel released them enough that the pressure was no longer squeezing them so tightly. Instead they knelt across from him, swaying as they tried not to collapse.

“She bore an abomination. Even to our own kind, it is a freak. If it had been an order from Hell, a weapon for Hell, it would make some sense,” Abaddon began to eagerly explain her own actions.

“Though angels and demons are notoriously incompatible,” Azazel interjected, his tone cheery. There was something off in his voice, making him threatening in how vague it was, and it made Crowley long to escape. “Go on.”

Abaddon took in a deep breath. “But it wasn’t. She let that piece of sanctimonious shit lure her loyalty away from Hell. The bitch bore that child and it was because of all of them, Winchesters included, that our Father was thrown back in the Cage. Unreachable. Suffering.” Her bloody mouth twisted again. “She deserves to be strung up and every demon to have a turn at her.”

Crowley watched Azazel carefully for any sign of his emotions. But as ever, he only wore that casually interested face. One that was like a cat playing with injured mice.

“You think I don’t know how much of a disappointment dear Meg ended up being?” Azazel reached out and stroked her cheek with a finger,. “So hate-filled when you feel betrayed. It makes you beautiful, Abaddon. It always has.”

Her eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure of his touch. Just as suddenly as he had been gently touching her, he grabbed her by the back of her neck and yanked her close. He gave her once-over before snorting in disgust and shoving her face down. Her power snarled around them but he simply held her down, even when slashes appeared on his face. Abaddon’s body flailed as he clamped his hand on her nape and held her face first into the stone.

“It is also why you are just as much of a disappointment, Knight. You never were a big picture sort.”

“She…”

“Still has use. You just don’t have the intelligence to see it.” He ignored her muffled sounds of pain. “You won’t do more than I order you. Both of you won’t do more than that.” He looked at Crowley in warning. The Crossroads demon squirmed because of the power he could feel curling around him, trapping him more thoroughly than chains. Whatever Azazel was exuding now was foreign even to Hell and _wrong._

 _“_ Meg,” Azazel continued. “Has to live and tell me things, give me things.”

The demon under his hand was choking now. Crowley simply stayed still, like prey afraid of attracting a predator. There was a reason why Azazel had ruled Hell so easily, compared to his successors. He didn’t care for politics, not really, and his viciousness could border on madness in the right case. He used to claim that the best of his plans was a kindness to his victims.

“What-what could she have that you couldn’t get with us?” Abaddon asked for them both. Azazel glanced down at her and crooned in his throat as if to soothe her.

“Meg is valuable. It is why I chose her years ago. She’s something unexpected. And now? She’s been God-touched and you idiots didn’t even see it. What it could mean if we use her. There’s just something about Meg, isn’t there?” The hand on the back of Abaddon’s neck lifted and he resorted to stroking her soft skin instead. “Am I understood?”

“Yes,” the Knight whispered.

Crowley still eyed him suspiciously. “So you don’t want Hell?”

“Of course I want Hell. In the right circumstances. I just don’t want it yet. I also don’t have the need to call myself such human titles as King or Queen.” He gave them both disgusted looks. “You are such children. What I want? Our Father free, I yearn for the Apocalypse to finish as it should. But more than that?”

Crowley thought immediately of Heaven. Every demon knew how God had apparently abandoned it, but the angels who had fought Hell still believed in their Father. They weren’t to be screwed with if that was Azazel’s plan.

“I want to find the way back to the Lethe. All those souls. All that power to be siphoned.”

He picked Abaddon up like a doll and set her down beside him, still stroking her face. “And you both will stay out of my way, do as I bid, won’t you? You will not attack my daughter, will you?”

“We won’t.” Abaddon nodded and Crowley echoed her but already he was trying to think of a way out of this. Out of here. Before he moved, Azazel had him by the throat again. 

“You think I’m stupid enough not to seal deals with you both?” he asked.

“No,” Crowley whispered as he submitted to the deal-making magic surrounding them, so utterly snared in power that had always been stronger than his. As Azazel’s mouth sealed over his in a brutal kiss, Crowley’s mind turned to how he felt. It felt as if there was Grace burning him alongside that dark current of power. Abaddon’s husky laugh and the brush of her own power joining Azazel’s and his, made the moment more intimate than it should have been.

Caught between hate of this old demon and the exhilaration in his own submission to such stronger power, all Crowley could do was hope was that he was left alive after tonight.

—

Meg had gone into the small town on foot. She hadn’t liked using her power to move as fast as she had, knowing it would attract attention, but finding a car to steal would also lead humans to them. Castiel had been adamant that they lie low, like they used to, and even when so far as to say she should stay in the house only. Meg had gone toe to toe with him over that in an argument that had not been raised above a whisper and made it clear she wasn’t about to be cowed into hiding.

They’d been here only a matter of days and the idea of domesticity was causing her to chafe a little at the restraint.

Still, it wasn’t so terrible for once. They rotated their care for Nyx, kept her busy, and saw each other in short bursts. It was better that way. After a week confined to that motel room, Meg had thought it was easier to simply go back for a while to how they had been. Occasionally touching, frequently having spirited bickering over inane things to relieve stress, and then often falling into silence with one another.

What was irritating was that she had actually missed him. They were always around one another, in one way or another. He was busy fixing things that had fallen apart in the house, repainting and warding, stocking it with supplies, and the care of their child they did in rotation. She didn’t know where he went and he never asked where she went. Meg cared for Nyx in the day, Cas at night, but Meg knew he was always very close. Sooner or later, she knew, Castiel would have to learn that he wasn’t going to lose them if he let go a little.

It was throwing more than a small cramp in her life.

Pausing outside an old bar, Meg trailed her fingers over her collarbones in a mindless caress. There was always a chance of a demon or monster seeing her in this town, but it was so secluded in the country that neither of them had heard of anything really big happening. Castiel had, like it or not, chosen the perfect place to hide again.

The bar door swung open, a blast of heat flowing out from the warm interior, but Meg didn’t move in, stepping to the side as the two men shoved past. They eyed her up and down and then snorted, walking away. Meg still debated on going in, longing for a stiff drink and time to herself out of the snow.

“We both heard Garth. We’re not to hunt this kid.”

The demon paused with her hand on the door, tilting her head. The two men lit up their cigarettes and huddled together near the dumpsters as they began to shiver at the cold. When one turned away, she darted around the other side of the dumpster so that she could eavesdrop. Something in the gruff way he had said ‘hunt’ had been familiar.

“We’re not even sure some special demon kid exists anymore.” The bigger man took a long drag. “Don’t like the thought of killing kids myself.”

“So what do we do? Stick around Colorado? Or do we join up with a few others and see what they say?”

Meg peered over the top of the dumpster, her hand going to the knife tucked away in her belt.

“Nah. I mean, this is angels and demons, man? Give me a good old Vamp hunt instead. This is way out of my league.” 

Meg relaxed and moved her hand away from her knife. They stubbed out their cigarettes, muttered a bit more about the weather, and then went back inside. She stayed, hesitating about what to do. The urge to destroy something was strong, a way of letting off some steam, but it would attract attention.

_Get home. Stay out of sight._

Forgetting her urge for a drink, Meg started off back down the snow covered road, walking slower than she had before. Using what power she thought to spare, she covered her tracks and kept close to the snow covered trees as she made her way back home. Her thoughts went to Castiel, to the protection of the safe-house, to Nyx, and without thinking she started to move herself across the distance, leaving no sign to be found that she had ever been there.

—

 

“You’re sick, Sam!” Dean slammed the motel door shut behind himself. “And on a werewolf hunt! Why the hell weren’t you honest with me when we left the bunker?”

“Oh, like you were real honest with _me!”_ Sam snapped back as he tossed his duffel bag on the first bed to reclaim his spot. “I’m not stupid, Dean.”

“You nearly fainted on me a few times there! You weren’t strong enough!” Dean shouted.

“Yeah, so?” The gash on Sam’s head had opened up and was bloodying his long hair. “You couldn’t keep up with me anyway!”

“I was fine!” Dean shouted.

“So fine that you turned grey and kept gasping for breath. Your heart was killing you and you wouldn’t even admit to it this time!”

Dean nearly swore aloud. He had hoped that Sam wouldn’t notice the way he had paused for breath repeatedly while tracking the signs of that rogue werewolf. Unconsciously, he lifted his hand to his chest and rubbed. The pain in his chest at the time had been a phantom echo of what had happened in Maine, but it had burned and felt real. With one eye on Sam as his brother kicked off his boots, he dug into his pocket for the last of his medication. Sam was muttering under his breath, so Dean quickly popped his pills into his mouth and dry swallowed. It was an immediate placebo effect, he knew, but he nearly did feel his racing heart calm down.

Still ready for a fight, both brothers sat down in unison across from each other with matching distrustful expressions on their faces. They looked everywhere but at each other until finally Dean caught Sam’s eye with a gesture.

“It _is_ getting worse, huh?” he asked, his voice gruff to hide his worry. 

Sam nodded. “Since what happened at the cabin. Since Meg and Cas took Nyx with them especially.” He bowed his head. “Just more lightheaded. You?”

“Heart is hurting.” Dean sighed and looked at his still shaking hands. The sight made him grip them into fists to stop it. “Guess we needed the kid around to distract us, huh?”

“Think so.” Sam stared at his arm and he rolled up his sleeve. They both could see the faintest scar tissue there that matched the lines on Dean’s arm. Slowly, the lines were starting to reappear in pale white scars. “I… uh… let’s face it, the spell is finally wearing off. Maybe what binds us is letting go. Falling apart.”

Dean made a face. “Yeah and taking us down with it.”

His brother shrugged. “That’s how spells go, remember? They have consequences. This one bought us time but not a lot of it.”

“And it is falling apart at the worst moments possible,” Dean said. “So what do we do then?”

“Not sure what we can do. Not even sure the same spell would work. Kevin had that idea about the blood, didn’t he? About demon blood or something to adapt and cement the process.” Sam ran his hand through his hair and winced when he touched the cut again. “Just not sure why we are feeling it worse now.”

“Well, Nyx healed you. Maybe she blocked it a bit. We don’t know what her power is.”

“Maybe.”

The knock at the door made Dean sigh, still rubbing impatiently at the back of his neck. Tired and sore from the long night spent in the woods, he wasn’t in the mood for any more crap. Sam watched him warily as if he expected him to collapse.

“I’m fine, Sam, knock it off,” he snapped over his shoulder as he walked to the door. His brother’s muttering was clearly meant as an insult but he ignored it. The second knock was sharper and Dean shook his head. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Who is it?”

“Garth sent me,” a man with a thick but untraceable accent answered. Grabbing his gun from his bag on the table, Dean held it ready and glimpsed Sam pulling his knife as well while he opened the door slowly. On the other side, a man as thin as Garth but far older, stood. Dean blinked, not expecting that because his voice had been so deep.

“Who’re you?”

“Bentley. Paul Bentley.” He grinned, displaying a row of crooked teeth that were stained by coffee. “Hunter.”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the tall woman who stood behind him. “This is Sheila.”

Dean didn’t bother to smile politely. “Hunters?”

“Of course,” the dark-skinned woman said. 

“Unlike someone else in this room,” Bentley finished and the confrontational acid in his voice made Dean glare at him. But he turned his attention on Sheila. She looked whipcord strong, older than him maybe, and strong. He had the feeling she was the more dangerous of the two. 

“What do you want?”

“Just looking for a little chat.” Bentley shoved in past and nodded to Sam. “Sam, I take it?”

“So chat.”

Sheila followed in, more polite than Bentley to wait to be asked by Dean it seemed, and she took a seat on the chair closest to the door.

“Must be a real trial, settling in hotels versus cars.” The older man sounded disapproving. “Kind of soft, huh?”

Sam glanced at Dean and like his brother he didn’t put his weapon down.

When she frowned, Sheila’s skin tightened into deep lines and made her seem much older than either of them would have guessed. “Oh shut up, Bentley, and get on with it. I want to get home to Molly at some point this week. Haven’t seen her in days and I’m not about wait for you to show your balls off to the Winchesters.”

Bentley glared at her but did as she asked. “Rumour mill is all a fuss over you two.”

“Always is. We are the Winchesters,” Dean said arrogantly.

“So everything is true? I mean, everyone knew about you both still running around with that angel of yours.” He took a seat on the bed across from Sam. “But what about the other stories, huh?”

“Which one? You guys keep making up stories.” Sam set his knife down close to his thigh.

Sheila turned a little on the chair, eyes locking with Dean’s. “About a Cambion. Or whatever this thing supposedly is.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Dean asked her and she shrugged. 

“Hearsay. You know how it goes. We go based on what we hear.” She tugged on the edge of her thick black ponytail. “One of the hunters claimed that some demon we all got told to leave alone years ago, one we were told was dead, is running with you.”

Sam shrugged. “Stuff happens. There is a demon alive, sure. We work with a lot stranger things than you guys do. It’s why we do such good work.”

Sheila ignored that. “So you are running with the angel and demon?”

“Not really true. They aren’t with us now.”

“I want to hear about this kid.” Bentley looked at Sam and actually flinched at the cold look. “Even Garth admitted there were stories about an angel and demon having a kid together.  You guys know the stories about Cambions, about any sort of kid, monster or demonic. They can be about a thousand times worse than their parents.”

He looked at his partner and she shrugged. “I read some stories myself.”

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, both thinking about Nyx. A little girl who just wanted to draw, liked to follow them around and ask endless questions. An innocent who, beyond healing Sam and going into the warehouse to find Castiel, had never once done anything to hint she was more than just a special girl. 

“It’s not the first time Hunters are wrong,” Dean said.

“And it is our business. Not yours where this is concerned,” Sam finished for his brother.

“Would be, until you two stopped doing your job.” Bentley reached down to his ankle holster and pulled out a knife, intricately designed and one they both knew was silver laced just by experience. He tossed the blood-stained weapon onto the ground between him and Sam, so that it lay exposed on the carpet. Both brothers stared at it. “Letting a werewolf go? What would your daddy say?”

The other hunter watching them realized it was a mistake to goad them the instant Bentley so pleasantly said that. Her amber brown eyes flickered over the other men thoughtfully.

“He was doing us a favour.” Dean sounded disgusted and didn’t hide it as he looked at Sheila. She raised her hands as if to say ‘I didn’t do it.’ He nodded and looked back at the older Hunter. Bentley clearly had the hard-on for killing werewolves as he took up the knife and began to look at its bloody surface. Dean half-expected him to lick the blood off.

“Monsters don’t do us favours. The only favour we give them is killing them before they spread their filth around.” He waved the knife at Sam. “Right?”

“You’ve both heard about the Mother of Monsters moving along, infecting monsters and demons?” Sam asked. The hunters jerked a little. “Or not.”

“You’re all hard up to kill some new monster you don’t even pay attention.” Dean was still disgusted by Mark’s senseless death. “Eve has been out for over a month now. Doing God knows what to her kids. Maybe you both remember how you take care of some monsters? Kill the source. Why don’t you focus on that, instead of hunting some imaginary kid?”

“Imaginary?” Sheila arched an eyebrow. “A hunter said he saw you two driving with a little girl out of Montana. Or was that two other hunters who maybe started a family together?”

Sam glared at her. “She’s not your concern.”

“Why shouldn’t she be?” Bentley’s tanned skin was mottled in anger. “She’s a freak!”

“Hey, I know some good freaks.” Dean sat beside Sam and nudged him. Sam discreetly elbowed him back. 

“It’s not a joke!” Bentley stood up from the bed and began to pace, twirling his knife. “You’re going to protect some freaky kid.”

“We don’t kill kids just because,” Sam said patiently. “And you don’t know if she’s evil. You don’t know anything except for some story you overheard.”

Sheila started to say something but Bentley beat her to it. “We know that every time we leave the demon stuff to you Winchesters, everyone ends up screwed. You hunt the Mother, we’ll take care of this problem.”

His partner gave him a look. “I don’t kill kids either. We came here for information. The boys have a point, Paul. This Mother was bad news a few years ago.”

“All I know is that demons were responsible for my family dying in Michigan a few years ago. While these two were playing bunk-buddies with demons and angels. I don’t trust them to do the right thing,” he said, focussing his anger on her now. “You take care of the Mother then and get to be best friends with these idiots. I’ll do what I do best. Find the freaks and end them before they spread themselves around.”

“Maybe we weren’t clear,” Dean said and before Bentley turned just a little, he had his arm to his throat and was throwing him up against the wall. Sheila went for her knife but with one look at Sam she saw his warning and it stayed her own knife. Dean was totally focussed on the hunter he held. “You will do what you’re told. You’ll go back to your home state if you won’t help us. Take a few weeks off.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll make you wish you had.” He leaned in, his weight so totally in his arm that the thinner man choked. “You might think this kid is evil, I get it. Bad things happen and we blame the world.” Reaching into his jeans, he pulled out Ruby’s Knife and planted it into the wood by Bentley’s head. “This little girl is our responsibility. You come near her, you don’t want to know what might happen. But I’m sure you’ve heard stories about us. So are we clear?”

The hunter glared at him. “Cute. Protecting her because of your angel and whatever demon he knocked up?”

“Why would you do that?” Sheila finished.

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed away from Bentley. “They don’t get it, Sam.”

“No, they don’t,” Sam agreed, watching as Dean took Bentley by the arm and pulled him to the door, opening it. Sheila sighed and followed.

“What don’t we get?” she asked, since Bentley could barely talk from the blow Dean had given his throat.

“We’re not really doing this to save a little girl.” Dean’s mouth was twisted in a sarcastic grin. “We’re doing this to save you. We’re protecting you too. Because it isn’t just us you have to worry about. It’s her parents.”

He leaned close to her ear. “Tell the others to back off or I’ll let them die. You get me?”

She nodded and he pulled back, still smiling. “Good. If you aren’t going to help us with Eve, go home. Relax. Have a few drinks.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “And if I hear about either of you tailing us again, of you even trying to find this little girl.” He looked over his shoulder at Sam. His brother had stood up and was watching them.

“It won’t be pretty,” Sam finished. “We good?”

Sheila nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Come on, Bentley. We’ll get you drunk and back to your house before you start to think that fighting the Winchesters is a good idea. Then I can get home for once to see my little girl.”

He glared at them both even as his partner began to pull him away. “You’re going to regret doing this,” he threatened Dean.

The younger man gave him a small smile. “I have a life full of regrets. I figure, what’s one more?”

He slammed the door in their faces and turned back to Sam. 

“Call Cas. Let him know the hunters are still sniffing around.” He went back to their weapon bag and began to rummage. Sam watched him suspiciously. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure they start back home, at least to the highway, and don’t turn right around to follow us to the bunker. Call him.”

The way Dean moved, like a soldier about to go to war, made Sam hesitate to call the angel even after Dean closed the door behind him. A part of him wanted to insist that he go with Dean to be sure his brother didn’t pull something drastic to scare those two hunters.

 

—

Routine was good. It would keep them all from going insane.

At least, that is what the angel thought. They hadn’t been here too long but already the isolation of the old house would have been weighing on him if it wasn’t for the routine.

Castiel waited for Nyx to get ready for bed, cleaning up after her as she brushed her teeth and washed up. In an imitation of an adult, she even made sure her bed was perfect. She had settled into the house happily, into the sameness that he knew Meg found irrationally irritating, and he had resolved to wait and see how long it lasted. She was young enough that, to her, a change in her books was just enough to keep her happy and a change in routine would be enough to cause her to take notice. Sooner or later, she might not like it so much.

So set on keeping her calm and happy, Castiel simply did what he saw as best and let her live her own little life, hoping it would help her. What few books he had read to try to understand human parenting, what he had learned from Dean and Sam, helped him. He tried to make this odd transition to normalcy perfectly natural but he was sure somewhere he had maybe messed up. Parenthood without help from his human friends was difficult. There were monsters to chase out from under beds, drawings to help her with, the never-ending struggle to get her to behave when she felt grumpy, and endless questions to answer. There were always questions. But once he figured out she was doing it because she wanted him around, he hadn’t minded If he was overindulgent towards her. Meg never said anything about it and he wasn’t sure what the demon had retained from her own three years with Nyx.

Pulling up in a chair, he sat beside the low bed he had found for her and watched as she fixed her pillows and crawled up to the head of the bed. But before he could tuck her in, she sat up and looked at him so expectantly he thought that something was wrong.

“You’re ready to go to sleep? Did you want me to leave?”

She shook her head.

“You want to read?” Another head shake and Castiel gave her a slightly frustrated smile. “What would you like?”

"You read."  She picked up a thin picture book from the pile stacked on the edge of her bed. Nyx stared at him expectantly as she all but shoved it into his hands. He blinked. He’d read his books to her as a baby, those books because he knew she didn’t really understand it. But picture books seemed rather…

_Childish._

“Nyx, you should sleep.” 

As if ignoring his obvious discomfort, she bundled herself down under her blanket and gave him an impatient look. “Read.” She reached out and tapped the cover. “Dray-gone.”

Castiel frowned at the picture book. He didn’t remember going and getting this book for her, but he didn’t question it. It might have been Meg or the Winchesters who had packed it into her duffel bag. The awkwardness of it was something he was going to have to ignore. _Angels didn’t read children’s books,_ he thought irritably. He was one of the highest angels still regarded in Heaven. Children’s books were almost beneath him. He wasn’t….

"Read,” she repeated insistently. Nyx gave him a look that said she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Resigned, he began to read it to her, laying the book on her lap so she could look at the pictures. The book itself was not very long, not much to read for an angel who could speed read an entire tome if he chose in under a few minutes.  It would be so easy.

Except reading just the first few pages took nearly half-an-hour. Nyx wanted to know the why right from the very first page; why the princess had to be rescued, why she didn’t fight because her own mother fought so well you know and the princess had to save herself. Curious questions but once he read the first page to her, it was clear she was happy with this book being different. Then when he tried to turn the pages Nyx would stop him, flip back, and point out details of what she liked in the pictures or get him to read a part over and over again so she understood it. At first it was almost maddening; he tried to tell her sensible things to end her questions, to try to speed it along, but there was no telling what questions she was going to ask him. 

Slowly, as they finally reached the fifth page, he started to enjoy himself. It wasn’t clear if Nyx cared for the book itself but he realized she wanted to hear his voice. She only stopped him to pull him onto the bed beside her and he stretched out. Nyx tucked under his arm and starting to ask him another question,and Castiel found that he was starting to become involved in the story himself. He didn’t do the voices like she said Dean did but he had a slow, low way of talking that Nyx seemed to like.

He turned the page, finished the small paragraph, and waited patiently for what was sure to be a new round of questions about the princess in the paper bag dress. But when nothing happened and the weight against his arm grew heavy, he glanced down to see Nyx had fallen asleep. Her head was lolled against his arm and she was breathing slowly. As awkward as it should have been, he smiled and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. Setting the book to the side, he let her roll down down on the bed and her eyes fluttered a bit though she didn’t wake. Tucking her in, he counted her pillows and blankets, made sure she was safe and not about to fall out, and snapped off the lamp. 

He had to admit, as trying as the past few days had been on his patience, moments like these he did enjoy. It gave him a sense of balance to how terrible things had been.

Running his hand over her small body to be sure she was okay, he let his fingers rest on her cheek. “Nyx. I’ll protect you.”

She murmured and burrowed under her blankets, smiling in her sleep as Castiel stepped back. The windows still had their wards scratched on the glass and plastic siding, and when he glanced out he saw Meg wandering over the backyard. Without any houses surrounding this one, they were virtually alone and he was glad. The privacy meant they could take care of Nyx without suspicion. Resting his hand on windowsill, he watched Meg and wondered what she was doing. The demon had knelt in the snow, doing something he likely didn’t want to know about, but with his eyesight he could see her lips moving.

What spells she did were mostly demonic but warding spells. She really was worried about being caught.

Her head turned suddenly and she looked up at the house. Castiel withdrew back into the shadows, out of sight, and watched her for a few seconds before creeping out of Nyx’s room. 

Meg would disappear, like she had used to, and her explanations were that it was to give her some balance. She needed her freedom and Castiel sympathized. He stayed close but like her he kept his ear on his family to see if any angels had moved. His brother had kept to his promise though. No angels had left Heaven for very long and they were left alone. It gave Castiel time to find supplies, to keep an eye on Meg and Nyx, even when they were unaware of it.

It was watching Meg with the little girl that convinced him that as painful as leaving her had been, it had not been his worst idea ever to give his daughter her mother as her guardian.

He nearly tripped over Nyx’s heavy winter boots Meg had brought back one night, and muttering to himself he looked at the living room. With the way things were thrown around, the room was in shambles. Dean would hate it.

The backdoor opened, sending a blast of cold air that made him shiver. He only felt the cold more now that he’d abandoned wearing his overcoat inside, as a few remarks from a puzzled Nyx that he didn’t need to wear it made sense. Castiel turned to face Meg, who was soaked from her shirt to her pants with snow and ice from the sleet storm passing through. She was shaking from the cold and gave him a low grunt in greeting when she passed him to kick her shoes off.

“Where were you?” he asked.

She gave him a shrug. “Afraid I’m stepping out on you?”

He was getting used to her agitation when he asked her questions, so he only gave her a dismissive look as he took a seat on the couch. “Why would I be worried about that?”

Meg stared at him. “You’re still so trusting.”

“Like I said before, I trust you to do what I know you’ll do.” He held up a hand. “It isn’t me being self-righteous. But I know you.”

“Right,” Meg muttered and he gave her a slight smile. 

“Do you want anyone else?” he asked indulgently and watched her lips purse.

Finding it too exhausting to go for sarcasm and wit, he rolled her eyes and padded on pale, bare feet to sit beside him. “You’re lucky I don’t.”

“I’m very aware of that.” He watched her sit stiffly beside him. They both sat so rigid that when his leg brushed hers he felt her tension. “This is bothering you, isn’t it?” He gestured around the room at her look. “Staying still, having to trust in being safe here.”

“It’s not that bad. This time. That’s not why I’m all up tight, Castiel. I’m freezing and tired and in desperate need of something to take the edge off,” she answered, her teeth chattering. They ran the house a bit cold when Nyx slept, a way of saving the energy because normally they didn’t need it. They hadn’t used the bedroom for days and he wasn’t sure if Meg’s standoffishness was deliberate. She caught his eyes on the loft overhead. “Cool off period is killing _you,_ huh?”

Castiel ruffled his hair and tiredly looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s in bed?” 

“Yes. After I let her play in the snow, she was very tired.” He watched as Meg stood up and stripped off her soaked shirt. She eyed him, his wide eyed stare, as if he had never seen her naked before, making her grin.

“Good.” Meg unbuckled her jeans and pushed them just below her hip bones as she backed away. “Unless you want to do this right here? She could still come down, you know.” 

“Do what?”

The demon grinned wider. “Not that clueless, feathers. I’m cold. You’ve been in the house all day with energy to burn.”

He dumbly pointed at the stairs. “But Nyx is… she…”

“You’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?” She pitched the shirt at him and he was slapped in the face by the sodden material. When he drew it off his face, scowling at her, Meg arched a brow and toyed with the strap of her equally soaked bra, the lace so sheer he could see through it. He swallowed down what he’d wanted to say and she obviously knew how she affected him. “You can bite on that, if you have to.”

Meg was gone before he could stop her and Castiel took in a deep breath to calm himself.

He was zapped to the loft bedroom before Meg was halfway up the steps. He could hear his phone vibrating with an incoming call but ignored it, watching as she came into the bedroom. She eyed the bed first, the discarded clothing she’d left and the sheets he had changed a few days ago as if in preparation for this moment. Castiel waved his hand to flick on the space heater, before he approached her as she closed the door.

She was watching him closely, as if expecting the same treatment they’d been giving each other for a while now. Meg had called it ‘cooling off’.

Castiel had called it ridiculous.

He bent over, shoulders hunching a bit as he pushed her into the door with his body weight. With his head tucked against her shoulder, he felt Meg’s chin tilt into his neck and she lifted a hand up between them to rest on his stomach. When her head turned toward him he kissed her, tasting the cold still on her lips and enjoying it. It made everything seem somehow more clean and clear.

He wanted to touch her like this, when she was still cold, to see how her skin warmed to his touch.

Pulling her away from the door, he led her to the bed, where it was now made but had been untouched for days. Meg murmured against his neck when he pressed close again, teeth grazing her earlobe as he leaned into her. “Touch me,” he muttered.

When her cold hands laid on his stomach again, this time moving beneath the thin dress material, he shuddered and let her sit him on the bed. Meg’s murmuring was non-sensical to him, hard to listen to when his blood was roaring through his body and his heart pounded in his ears. He’d missed this in the few days since he had last touched her. As much as he wanted her, to absolve that separation by touching and tasting her, he had waited for her to come to him.

Maybe the reason why she had been uptight was also affecting him.

“Trying to take control this time?” she asked against his ear.

“Well.” He sucked a mark onto her neck and then moved further down to tug at the edge of her bra with his teeth. The hitch in her breathing made him smile against her skin “Someone has to.”

Meg rolled him over onto his back and undid his shirt slowly, each button popping sounding loud. He sat up, cradling her with his legs, and began to kiss down her neck, rasping his tongue over the goosebumps on her skin. Letting his hands skim over her skin in rapid movements, he felt the way she seemed to warm to his touch and she stopped shivering so much. The startled moan she gave when he reached between them to cup her breasts had him smugly entertaining the thought that he had caught her off guard again. Her body was incredibly warm now and he was debating on his next move when she caught his hands in hers and held them away. 

With an unceremonious shove, she pinned him back down on his back and grinned at his startled look. 

“Might want to bite down on something, Clarence. This could get loud.”

—

 

Sam sighed as Dean pulled the Impala into the side garage of the bunker. “He’s not picking up.”

“Might not be around. Maybe Meg and him are on outs again,” Dean said.

His brother snorted rudely as he eased out of the car, duffel bag in hand. “Yeah, sure, if you still believe that.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He redialled Castiel’s number, waited, and then gave up. “Let’s get in, see what Kevin has to say.”

“Knowing Kevin?” Dean smirked. “Won’t be a thrill a minute.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam followed his brother wearily into the bunker as he dialled Castiel again.

—

Meg was draped over him, panting as hard as he was and her heart banging in hard rhythm with his own. Arms wrapped around her body, Castiel kept her as still as he could to keep from ruining while enjoying the way his body nearly hummed with pleasant endorphins. She’d followed through better than he expected. Lazily, Meg reached up and patted his cheek before gently pulling her bra out of his mouth. The material was nearly ruined by his teeth and she tossed it away.

“That’s my boy, Clarence, you kept as quiet as you could.” She moved her hips a little, causing a friction that made an aftershock roll through them both. She choked back a moan and he nipped at her hand as if to stop himself as well. “Thanks for the ride.”

Working his jaw, he barely managed to open his eyes. “You’re welcome.” Reaching down, he pulled the bed sheet up over her hips and stroked his other hand down her back. “Why did we wait again?”

“To make sure that week wasn’t a fluke. ”

“Hmm.” His head tilted and he looked down at the top of her head as she rested down against his chest. “Was it?”

He felt her chuckle and then smile against his skin. “No. Not for me. You?”

Since she actually sounded concerned he sighed. “Of course not. You know how I felt.”

Meg lifted herself up on her elbows. “So what do we do now? Just keep hiding out?”

“What else can we do?” Castiel thumbed a dark curl before he draped it over the top of her breasts. Her skin had a glow from sweat and exertion,  and he couldn’t stop staring.

The demon sighed and then her head turned her head on the side. “Your phone is going off again.”

Groaning, the angel rolled onto his stomach and reached into his pants. Meg stayed sprawled on his back, curling into his warmth. He listened to his voicemail and then sighed. “I should go talk to them. Something about the hunters.”

“Mm.” She nipped at his shoulder. “Run along.”

“I should stay,” he contradicted when he felt her willingness just in the way her hands wandered down his back. “To keep you and Nyx safe.”

“You could do that too.” Meg pushed off of him and started to crawl away. He caught her leg in his hand and pulled her back under him. 

“I want to do that.” There was such a force in his words that she stared up at him thoughtfully. “I love them as my brothers but I want to be here.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “Cas.”

“You could ask me to stay. Ask me to stay.”” His mouth was just brushing hers when she gave him a gentle touch before she sat up a bit. 

“Go answer the phone.” The demon scooted to the end of the bed. “I’ll still be here when you get back. You know that.”

He eyed her and just before he could speak, turn her over to try to prove his point about staying, the door creaked open. They both jerked around and he tumbled off the bed as Meg shoved him over. Winded, he peeked over the bed to watch Meg snatching the bed-sheet up to cover herself before she faced Nyx. 

“Had a bad dream,” Nyx said as she rubbed at her eyes. Still half asleep, she was grumbling as she slipped into the bed beside Meg. The demon stared at her, bewildered by how close she scooted and not caring that her mother was naked apparently. “Monsters and bad smoke.”

Meg glanced over her shoulder. Castiel had frozen, naked and paralyzed, on the floor in concern that he’d be found. Nyx gave her a puzzled look, not seeing him down there. For once, he’d been so stunned that zapping himself out of the room hadn’t come to mind. 

That he and Meg had come to terms was something they were still trying to work out. Neither of them was very sure what Nyx’s reaction to them being together would be.

“Come on, monster. I’ll check under your bed for monsters and then you are back to bed.”

She squirmed into a sweater and pants before she hopped off the bed. Nyx protested sleepily as Meg took her back and Castiel breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the door shut. Quickly, he fished the phone off the ground and listened to his voicemail again.

—

Kevin glared at Dean over the books they had stacked up. “You left _me_ to do all the research. Again.”

Dean shrugged. “Not like you don’t enjoy it.”

“That’s not even the point…”

“Cas left me a message,” Sam said as he walked down the steps and picked up the book he had left. “So where are we at?”

Dean blinked. “He’s not coming back?”

“Ah, no.” His brother flipped through a few pages. “Said he wanted to stay with Meg and Nyx.”

“Great. The one person who can read all of these books fast wants to play house.”

The three men huddled around the table, stacks of books and old maps scattered between them. As much as Dean hated the grunt work of research, the books were pretty damn fascinating to him. Kicking back, he picked up a book on expelling monsters from bodies and stripping away powers, and sipped his coffee as he read.

It was an hour later when Sam suddenly shuffled in his seat.

“Hey, get this.” He was wearing gloves, the text he was reading so old that Kevin had insisted because otherwise he was going to destroy the precious but decaying paper. “It is a story on nephilim.”

Kevin and Dean looked at each other. “Uh, Sammy,” Dean said. “Focus. We’re researching on Eve.” 

“I know but this is interesting!”

With a sigh, Kevin rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “Besides, nephilim were just really legends, weren’t they?”

"Any recorded time where hunters or Men of Letters managed to get wind of angels or demons having kids was rare, you said that," Dean pointed out. 

"But there is a case from a very old text, sort of ‘handed down Father to Father, story to story’ that sort of thing." Sam ran his gloved hand over the book gently. "’The birth of nephilim is something that usually kills the mother.’"

"What?" Dean peered over the edge of his book. "Sam, we’re reading up on Mother of Monsters not…"

"Look, I found it, and it is kind important. Maybe that’s why whoever helped Meg and Cas conceive a child, God or Sheol, chose Meg." He pushed the page over that was starting to fall out. "Maybe there’s more to Meg and Nyx than we thought. Special baby thing aside."

The other men looked at him. “Angels coming down and impregnating women as men?”

Sam read the recount. “Says they were beams of light.”

"Go figure. At least Cas went the fun route with Meg."

Kevin snorted and Sam eye-rolled. “Not the point, Dean. It is just odd that it happened in the first place. Remember how Cas and Meg both said that their kind had never reproduced before? By the sounds of it, nephilim were rare for a long time and according to this, the nephilim they did find was very powerful.  All with the same personality. Sort of ‘no family, mercenary or recluse’ behaviour.”

The other men shrugged. “So why did this Man of Letters think that the birth would kill the mother?”

"Doesn’t say." 

Dean tried to think back three years to that night. “When Meg gave birth to Nyx, remember how it was? She bled out a lot.”

"And Cas said that Nyx was scared. That kid was aware something was going on. I remember him almost having to heal Meg, which she rarely let him do," Sam agreed.

Kevin gave them both puzzled looks. “So God or whoever had a hand in this wanted to be sure Nyx was born to a mother?”

"Looks like." 

"So maybe every other nephilim was raised without parents. Makes them into some sort of… wild card or something like that.”

“But Nyx was raised by a demon and she’s not human.”

The prophet shrugged. “She doesn’t know that, guys. To her, she’s as human as you and me.”

“So that leaves a world of mystery about what happened to the nephilim,” Dean said. But he glanced at Sam who looked concerned. “Sam?”

“They were wiped out except for one or two. It’s kind of… tragic. The angels realized they couldn’t be controlled, so they let them be wiped out. Michael led that rally.” Sam tapped the book with a finger. “Though it kind of does make sense, I guess. Angels were created by God and not allowed to actually reproduce to replace their own numbers. I guess maybe his way of thinking was that if he limited their numbers, it might make them more protective of their own family. So why Castiel and why Meg?”

They all thought about Castiel and how he had changed over the years.

“Yeah well, Cas has always been special,” Dean admitted, setting his book down. “Let’s get back on the subject of Eve. Any thoughts?”

“We’ve spent weeks at it this,” Kevin said, tossing his own book onto of a discard pile. “We could spend five years and still not read everything in the library. Maybe the solution is you guys killing her.”

“Ah, well.” Dean looked sheepish. “That might be impossible.”

“Why?” Kevin asked. “You said Metatron killed Adam and he was part of Eve.”

“He was a small part of Eve and nowhere as strong as she is. And Metatron died doing it.” Sam put his book down, open to what he’d been reading. “The old solution was the Phoenix ashes but it’s obvious that it’s not permanent.”

“Maybe it is a creation thing,” Kevin muttered but neither brother heard him.

“So either we find a way of killing her or we get her back into Purgatory, provided Hell gets blocked up.”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty sure Purgatory isn’t that easy to get in and out of anymore, Sam. Death was more than a little pissed about Reapers doing that.”

“Good point.” Sam looked around. “What about his scythe? It can kill anything, supposedly.”

“Again, we’d have to deal with Death and he’d be angry over that.”

“So what, we’re stuck?” Kevin asked and Dean shook his head.

“We got a lot of problems. Keeping Eve down is just one of them. She’s been quiet though. Any word on Azazel?”

“None.” The young prophet stared at them both. “What about the hunters?”

“Our problem,” Dean argued and Sam shook his head.

“It’s to protect them, Kevin. If Cas and Meg were to get wind of that, I don’t think it’d be pretty.”

Kevin clicked his pen a few times. “Well, why don’t you get Garth to send them out against Eve? Sort of like recon? There’s enough monsters out there, so we’ll need them.”

“Keep them busy,” Sam agreed. “They want to hunt so bad. Give them something new.”

Dean shifted in his seat. “Let’s just hope they figure out it is something to really focus on.”

“Let’s call Cas and Meg back then. We can use their help. I know it seemed like a good idea, separating, but Cas knows a hell of a lot more than we give him credit for.” Sam shrugged. “With winter hitting harder than usual, maybe if we…”

“With any luck,” Kevin said, leaning back in his chair. “Monsters will go quiet for a bit. I’ve not heard much on the radar about any movement either. Demons and angels are dead silent too.”

“Mm. Well, maybe for once we get to relax this Christmas.”

Sam gave Dean a look. “Yeah right.” 

Unseen in the corner, Castiel closed his eyes and sent himself back to the safe-house.

—

Without Castiel and not knowing what else to do, Meg had put Nyx back to bed and made a bit of a show looking for monsters. Her daughter had only slept when she had sat down on the bed with her, and once she nodded off again Meg had stayed watching her. There was something in that moment that made her suddenly itch to get out for fresh air, to clear her head. Ensuring the doors were all locked at the front, she took her favourite spot on the back porch for some quiet. 

She had only just started to relax when her phone began bleeping and she stared at the number ‘666’ thoughtfully. Muttering that she was screwed anyway, she put it to her ear and sighed.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alone?” Crowley asked.

“You know I don’t like personal calls, Crowley. Or any sort of call from you.”

“You weren’t lying about Azazel.” He blurted it out. “I’m shocked. And he’s coming for you specifically. Even put Abaddon under house arrest. What have you done, Meg, to get such personal attention?”

There was something in his voice Meg hadn’t heard in a long time. A very real fear.

But she also knew better than to trust it. “So why are you calling me?”

"I figure we can cut another deal. One that involves me not…"

"No thanks. You stabbed me too many times. Do I look like a Winchester?"

"Don’t you dare hang up on me! Meg!"

She heard his furious shouting for her not to put the phone down and ignored it, rolling her eyes as she hung up on him. Even knowing that Azazel had made himself known to Abaddon and Crowley didn’t really hit her immediately. She had spent so long on the run before that now it was just a disappointed sense of deja vu. She sat and stared out, watching the expansive woods and ridges just behind safe-house as she thought about how she should have felt. But at the same time, she knew who had been behind her, who had been there the moment Crowley had called.

“You going to just stand there or sit down?” she asked.

“You don’t trust him?”

Meg leaned back and looked at Castiel. He was leaning against the porch railing, back in his suit and coat and looking all angel. “Do I have a good reason to?”

He lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “No.”

When he sat beside her with a flourish, Meg exhaled and nudged closer to him to keep warm. “Crowley has his uses. But at the end of day, the first mistake any of you guys made was trusting him for longer than a few minutes.”

“Nyx?”

“Sound asleep. That kid could sleep through the Apocalypse.” She rolled her eyes up to the sky. “She didn’t ask questions, you know.”

Castiel eyed her. “About us?” 

“Have to tell her eventually.” Meg’s head dropped and she frowned at nothing at all. “Just not sure now is the best time.”

“She may figure it out.” He turned toward her. “She is very smart.”

“We have a world of other things to worry about.”

“Hunters, demons, monsters,” Castiel said and then shook his head a bit. “It’s a mess.”

Meg was watching him again. “Hunters?”

He told her, in short, what he had overheard. In return, she told him about the hunters in town and he sensed her anger. Castiel reached out, restraining her with a hand to her knee. “Dean and Sam are taking care of it.”

“You want me to trust them?”

“Would it be so hard?” He knew the answer even as he asked it and felt it in just the way she tensed. “Trust me, then.”

The demon sighed, a harsh sound. “I have to.”

“We need time to move. In a few days, we can go back to the bunker to get books and to see what is going on. If we can be discreet.”

“Nyx won’t like being moved around,” Meg argued and he took a while to answer her, as if judging the weight of his words.

“We’ll go between the two places. Maybe being on the move will help us. Maybe it won’t. But they need my help and I need yours,” he admitted. “And I can’t let you and Nyx be left alone.”

The demon thought it over. “I can find my own contacts, see what is going on. But we have to get someone to keep an eye on Nyx.”

“We can leave her with Kevin as well, if you think we can trust him.” Castiel put his hand down beside hers and Meg felt him hook his thumb gently over the top of her knuckles. “We can help them. Put Eve back, find a way to end this all.”

The demon looked at him. “It doesn’t solve our biggest problem, Cas. In the end, say this is all said and done and we survive somehow, what are we going to do? Sell out and play house for the rest of our lives? Disappear?”

He let go of the breath he’d been holding and shook his head. 

“I don’t know yet.”


	12. Sinister (When Angels Protect)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve's recovery leads to a new kind of madness as demons, monsters, and humans are pulled into her war. With her small army drawing closer, Kevin is entrusted with protecting Nyx as he tries to find a complete cure for the Winchesters. Forced to work with her one time enemies, Meg's tolerance for working on the side of the hunters is being stretched to the limit .

_Summary: Eve's recovery leads to a new kind of madness as demons, monsters, and humans are pulled into her war. With her small army drawing closer, Kevin is entrusted with protecting Nyx as he tries to find a complete cure for the Winchesters. Forced to work with her one time enemies, Meg's tolerance for working on the side of the hunters is being stretched to the limit ._

* * *

**Part 12: Sinister (When Angels Protect)**

_Near Picher, Oklahoma_

The room had been quiet for hours now, with only the steady drip of water from the leaking roof and the low hum of electricity overhead to disturb the silence. Lying on a metal table, a demon twisted his body against the straps that held him but made no sound. The leather cuffs were embossed with sigils to keep him trapped and helpless, and no matter how hard he pulled and fought, there was nothing he could do to free himself. Ever since he had been caught at a bar in Louisiana by vampires, he had been kept here and it had been days since he had seen more than the rusty beams of the ceiling above.

It had been days since he had been bitten into, days since he had felt the crawl of something inside of his veins. It had felt like worms wriggling beneath his skin. He had only been a little aware of what was happening, falling into a drugged haze that allowed him to call out and struggle, but never find the strength to actually fight. Every day he had laid here, testing his bindings, calling out threats, and it had been infuriating to wait. No one had come to see what was happening to him.

But today… today there had been pain. It had felt like pinpricks in his hand and the sensation was hot enough to make him whimper. When he had managed to lift his head to see what was happening, he had seen something dark on his hands, like a goo, and had thought maybe it was oil drippings. Hours later, it was twisting up his body his body in black trails. What he could see of his skin was covered strange etchings crawling up his arms like vines. Even with that sign of something wrong, it didn't terrify him like that feeling that had niggled up and down his spine to his brain.

He felt trapped within this shell of a body, one he had taken years ago and kept as his own. Now his soul felt like it had been burnt to an even deeper crisp, and something else was in the body with him. A slow, crawling sensation up and down his body followed each rippling movement. That, not the poison dripping into his soul, was what made him fight.

There was the low scuffle of something dragging on the table, like a knife edge scraping on the metal, and he closed his eyes.

"How does it feel, demon?" The feminine voice overhead made his eyes open to see a woman standing at the head of the table, leaning over him and the demon could only choke out a whimper at the sight. She had a knife in one hand and was tapping it slowly on the surface of the table, pausing just long enough to let it screech on the metal. It made him close his eyes again to try to hide the terror he felt at the sight of her.

Still wearing the willowy brunette with the large brown eyes, Eve had tried to keep her appearance deceptive. But the vicious twist to her lips, the way her eyes would flicker to orange now and then, belied any real innocence. Stabbing the knife into the table, she stepped around the demon with her ragged white dress floating in thick drapery around her. One hand gently caressed his chest and stomach, pressing a little to test him.

"Does it feel like pain? Like a knife twisting into your black guts? Or is it your pathetic little soul, torn apart and burnt, that hurts the most?"

The pain in his stomach seemed to tighten into an excruciating ball. The demon whimpered again, and it turned to higher, keening sound as his eyes turned completely black when her nails dug into the softness of his belly. She bent close, so they were eye to eye, and the cooing gentleness quickly became rage when she saw that he hadn't turned.

"Now a weakling like you is incompatible with us," Eve whispered as she stared at him. She had picked him, a mere messenger for Abaddon, as an experiment because he couldn't fight her as much as something with more strength. "And after three days of the venom. It isn't working!"

He screamed as the hand in his belly dug deep and began to split him open from sternum to throat. Eve ignored the way the blood sprayed, the way the broken bone and muscle flung back at her face in thick gobs. All she focussed on was seeing if maybe there was something deeper in a demon that could resist this attack. His feet kicked out and his mouth opened to let the soul escape, but the embossings trapped it. Lifting her other hand, Eve clamped it over his mouth and caught the smoky darkness in her palm, crushing it and setting it afire. The hand still digging into his flesh sliced through his chest to his heart, and the legs stopped kicking as she crushed the beating muscle with her other hand.

Breathing hard in excitement at the kill, her eyes darted up to see that his bloody face was slack and that there was no light in the eyes that anything lingered within, demon or human. Eve's lips pouted and in her palm she still felt that soul burning for just a second longer before it too was gone. Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling as she groaned impatiently. With a flick of her wrist, she tore his head off and let it roll to the floor before she stomped on it hard like a child destroying a hated toy.

The monsters, the few children she let stay so close to her in these times, stood with their backs to her out of respect. She debated on killing one or two now. It was something before she would have never done but now, faced with the decay of her monstrous children, the way the blood had thinned out, it was looking appetizing.

At least to ease the hunger growing in her stomach for destruction.

"Any news of the Winchesters?" the Mother asked while she cleaned her hands off on her dress, leaving bloody prints all over the once ivory cotton. Her own fingers were shaking from the force of her power and, when she lifted her hand to check for blood, she saw that her fingernails had finally fallen off of her one hand. Like her children, she was decaying without being able to enter this world. The body she was attached to, the demon she still kept stuffed inside the girl's walking corpse, was no longer the only thing she needed to live.

One of the vampires, an older one who was remaining unaffected by the fever taking the rest of his nest, stepped away from the group. His eyes were still blue and there was still undeniable strength in his thick body. He had the look of a soldier who had been to war and knew how to take care of himself. Though she claimed to love all her children, Eve wondered if it was time to take his head as well. She had learned her lesson in trust yet again, in love, and some of her monsters she had found in the Midwest had been disappointingly weak.

But he had been helpful.

"Nothing yet," he offered. "They're still in Kansas, far from us. The hunters we've been takin' down are usually from the area."

Eve leaned forward, hands on the table. Her teeth snapped in the air like a predator as she arched her back and shuddered. Without her other half to help take the burden of her power, more and more of her was decaying into the ruthless side. She was losing what she was and becoming the violent monster she had once told the Winchesters she wasn't. Disappointment had made her a fierce punisher to her own children.

A shuddering movement, like a wave of arms and legs, caught her attention to the younger vampires strapped to the walls. "Your nest is dying. They won't make the change into my more _beautiful_ creations."

The vampire looked at the changing newborns. "They aren't strong enough."

"Most of you aren't." Fixing her eyes on him, she tried to see under that pleasant mask he wore. She had bit him days ago, during a strangely impressive fight he had put up before submitting. She had tasted his blood and let him taste hers and she did like this one. But she didn't trust him. A big vampire like him should be out hunting, feeding almost daily, but she hadn't seen him actually hunt. Part of her even suspected he wasn't drinking human blood.

Even with her orange-eyed gaze glowing over him, the vampire didn't flinch.

But before she could ask more probing questions, she heard a low chuckle like rusty chains. The vampire's eyes went over her shoulder but Eve didn't turn even when the chuckle died.

"Your plans failed," a man said behind her. Anyone else braving her massive nest would have been killed but Eve knew who it was standing behind her. She knew the voice and the face that went with it with perhaps more intimacy than she realized.

"You sound so pleased," she said before snapping her fingers at the vampire standing across from her. He backed away respectfully but she thought she spied something in his face. Something calculating and he was clearly absorbing her response to this intruder. It was easy to see that it would take more thinking on what to do with him than she had planned.

"Your other half was going to betray me. I can't say I am mourning him." Azazel cleared his throat noisily. "Are you?"

Slowly, Eve turned to face the 'freak' as Adam had called him. She saw under the boyish face, saw the yellow and black smoke under the surface, and yet deeper still was something glowing within. Like an angel's Grace. She had never really noticed the Grace before and her mouth nearly went slack as she tried to decide what it meant.

Azazel did not hide his own shock as well as she did. For all he had seen of her power - Adam's change, the way the venom worked, the weird combination of demons to monsters — the creature before him was not like the virginal girl he had seen in the woods.

Her dark hair hung in lank and ropey tendrils, her skin was caked in blood and mud though her eyes still glowed orange, and she lacked anything that could speak of a human whenever she exposed her teeth and revealed tiny fangs. It was when she moved that she seemed even more feral. Every stride she took towards him was an abrupt jerk of movement, as if bones had been broken and were being reset when she stopped, only to be broken again when she tried to move again. With each absurd flex of muscle, she more resembled a doll on a set of strings trying to follow the commands of some invisible puppeteer.

Azazel wondered if the Mother of All herself was being ripped apart by her own power. Her eyes and expression spoke of something beyond her usual belief that she did what was right. Spoke of violence and madness, of need. He knew at once he could use this to his advantage.

"Why are you here?" she asked him impatiently.

Azazel grinned once more. "I'm here to try a new deal with you. Technically we fulfilled the last one and I need your help and you clearly need mine. But perhaps you need something to feed on? To give you strength and a taste for demon blood? It is a restorative for humans but you already knew that." When he snapped his fingers, two more demons came in. They gave the huddled monsters a wide berth and Azazel noticed Eve's eyes focus totally on them. "They've only just left the Pit so they can't fight you so much."

"What is this place?" a demon asked. "Why are we here?"

"I told you I had a job for you. I just didn't specify what it was," Azazel explained as he backed up a step and gestured at Eve.

The demon's eyes went black in fear as Eve almost keened in delight, approaching her with more grace than she had moved before. The Mother reached out and cupped her face in her hand, the other stretching out to touch the throat of the other demon beside her. Turning her head to Azazel, Eve's orange eyes went back to large brown innocence while her fingers gently caressed the female demon's face.

"They'll do for a start. I was feeling hungry," she murmured as she lifted herself on her toes. The male demon struggled as her nails dug into his throat to hold him still and he went to his knees. Chuckling, Eve ignored his cursing as her mouth descended on the jugular of the demon she had been stroking.

The angel sharing Azazel's meatsuit woke up at the sound of the demons' screaming. His darkness was still twined around Michael's weak Grace, and Azazel forced him into submission even though he felt how furious the once-Archangel was at being around Eve once more. The yellow-eyed demon turned his head away as Eve bit into the demon's throbbing vein and tasted addictive darkness once more.

* * *

_Duchesne County, Utah_

"Move faster, Sammy!" Dean shouted as he tossed aside the empty box of ammunition and turned over on his stomach to take aim. Sam was sprinting through the open clearing close to Dean's canopy, followed by their latest prey, a massive monster that was intent on running the humans down. The first time they had come across it behind an old church, Dean had nearly mistaken it for a bear until he had seen the way its body contorted and took a man's shape. He had begged them to kill him before he changed again but they had hesitated while trying to find him a cure. Now they were paying for it by having to hunt the unfortunate shifter before he killed another group of innocent bystanders.

For a shapeshifter, he had done a great job of picking something pretty terrifying before losing his mind.

Sam had volunteered to run through the trap laden field they had planned out. It had taken days to find him, but only seconds to lure him out when he had attacked a group of normal hunters. The men had been wanting to hunt what they thought was a regular bear, but Dean's weak lie about the monster being rabid had them backing off. It left the Winchesters to do what they did best.

Or usually did best.

Sam tripped on something and the bear trap that they had laid down snapped up in a spray of snow just as he rolled out of the way. The steel jaws made a loud crunch as they collided and Dean shook his head, still sighting down the barrel.

"Get your ass moving, Sam!" he called out.

At his voice, the shapeshifter turned its massive head to the trees and Dean murmured to himself that it was too cold for this kind of crap. He squeezed off a round and missed by a long shot, the harmless normal bullet embedding into a tree. Unable to see the other hunter through the camouflage, the shapeshifter turned on furry hind-legs to charge off again. The monster was struggling to catch Sam, its bigger body hindered by the deeper snow drifts, and the hunter rolled to his knees and started off for the trees where he could get to a ladder that led to another hunting blind.

He felt its talons catch him on the side of the body and he spun out of the way, trying to remember where each of the buried traps was.

Sam was running for his life while Dean was struggling to keep his erratically beating heart under control, taking deep and slow breaths as he changed to the next round. This one had to count. Silver bullets were getting scarce as more and more hunters went after these new monsters that had been invading the central and southern states.

"Any time soon, Dean!" Sam shouted as he was whirled to the side and the beast's jaws snapped at him. It barely missed his shoulder and when he spun out of the way he nearly fell again, this time into the shapeshifter's bulky form. It swiped again and caught him on the side of the head, sending him to the ground and forcing him to stay down as it snarled and aimed for his throat.

Dean exhaled slowly as he focussed. Nearly all the air from his lungs was gone as he squeezed the trigger and felt the kickback ricochet through his steady arm.

The bullet caught the monster on its heart, and sent it to the ground with a loud boom. There was a snarl and snap as the trap it landed on closed over its calf muscle, jagged metal teeth digging into the meat of flesh. The shapeshifter went down howling and writhing, not sure what to concentrate on. The fire of silver racing through its blood from the exploding bullet or the trap digging deeper and deeper into its leg.

Sam wiped at his dirty face, flinging mud and snow to the side, and then waved up at his brother. Dean lifted his rifle back up and looked down at the struggling creature. Where he might have felt remorse or a little bit of guilt over having put a creature like that down, the deaths of the hikers had only cemented its fate. They were lucky too; four or five hikers had died but the group meeting for the hunting trip had bypassed it completely. Neither of the Winchesters wanted to feel as if they had failed this time around.

Dean adjusted his position on the perch and waved his hand. "Is it dead?"

"Think so," Sam called back, sniffing as he stepped a bit closer. The beast's orange eyes were staring sightlessly up at him and he nudged a bloody paw with his toe. "Smells like it, anyway."

The stench of split bowels and animal blood was so strong that he held his hand up to his nose and gave it another nudge.

"Yeah. Dead as it can get," he shouted and stepped backwards as he glanced up at Dean. He was only a few feet away when the creature lurched forward again, snarling as it revived for one last bite. Sam yelled as he was swept off his feet and onto his back, the shapeshifter launching itself onto of him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, scrambling for what ammunition he had for his pistol. Below the monster, Sam struggled to keep its teeth away from his face with one hand while the other reached for the knife that had fallen out of his scabbard. Nearly dead and crazed, the monster shrieked in his face, coating him with black blood and spit as its massive legs rolled him closer to its jaws. Sam turned his head away, careful not to inhale or swallow what he knew was poisonous. Scissoring his long legs around its waist, he tried to roll it off but his head was struck at by its large paw, creating fresh sparks of pain that blinded him for a moment.

Dean's frantic calls were muffled by the monster screaming down at him as its teeth plunged down for the kill.

He opened his eyes at a familiar voice telling him to hold on, and saw a hand wrenching back on the monster's head. Its neck was exposed and Sam's own silver-tipped blade sliced into its throat, dragging from ear to ear. The hand in its fur let go and then slammed over its eyes. Instinctively, Sam threw his arm over his eyes as a glow of light filled the clearing. The shrieks ended on a low gurgle before the monster slumped completely into him. Sam panted for breath and managed to open his eyes, the sparks in his vision clearing so that he could look up without wincing.

Tossing the body to the side, Castiel turned to stare down at him.

"You need to be more careful," he said, as if Sam had deliberately tried to let the monster win.

"Cas. Where the hell did you come from?" the younger Winchester asked, rolling to his knees and getting to his feet, his half frozen clothing drenched in sweat and ice. Castiel shrugged and pointed to the distant trees.

"I was watching you."

Behind them, Dean was jogging up and heard the angel's calm explanation. "You didn't think to help sooner?" he asked as he gave the monster a kick just for the hell of it. Castiel looked confused.

"I was under the impression that you didn't need my help. That if I continued to help you it would make you less capable." He gestured at the clearing, at the destroyed trees, and the sprung traps all around them. "Perhaps I was correct."

"Cute, Cas, real cute." Dean jabbed his rifle down into a spot just a footstep away from the angel and a trap sprung, metal clanging together. The angel didn't flinch but gave him an unimpressed look. "Sam, how're you doin'?"

"I'm fine. Just got knocked around but I'm good," Sam said, still breathing hard. Castiel squinted and ran his eyes over him in such an obvious way that even Dean noticed but his brother waved a hand. "Thanks, Cas."

"What're you doing here?" Dean asked. "I bet it wasn't just to help us. Duchesne's a big area."

"Kevin told me your general vicinity. It wasn't hard to find you. When it comes to your hunting style, occasionally it is too easy to find you." Castiel didn't notice their offended looks and bent over to look at the monster. "This is like nothing I've seen before."

"More and more of the hunters are reporting beasts like this. We both saw that man turn into it. I thought he was a werewolf but…"

Castiel looked up at the sky. "There's no full moon tonight."

"Exactly." They watched him run his hands through its fur, lifting its gnarled muzzle to study the fangs dripping with black goo. Scooping some onto his fingers, he sniffed it curiously. Dean made a face and Sam shuddered; he could smell it on himself from the monster's wounds.

"It's from Eve."

"What? How do you know that?"

The angel stood, wiping his hands on his coat and shaking his head. "When Meg was infected, I remember smelling something similar on her from the venom."

Dean raised both eyebrows. "Well, no one knows what she smells like better than you, I guess. You hang around her so much."

"So he's one of the infected," Sam quickly said when he saw Castiel's glare. "Okay, so that's good to know."

"No, it's not." Dean looked around. "We're in Utah, Sam. The infected we heard about were all centralized near Kansas and Louisiana. It's travelling."

"She's infecting demons and monsters now," Castiel interrupted.

"How do you know she's infecting demons?"

The angel met Dean's curious look with a guileless stare. "Like you said, a demon and I do keep each other company."

Sam made an agreeable murmur. "That solves that. So it is spreading."

"Regular old plague, except this one is using monsters and demons as carriers." Dean made a face. "I thought she was just infecting demons to make new monsters."

"Maybe she changed tactics," Sam muttered. "I'm going to go get the shovels. We're going to have to bury this thing fast and get out of here."

Dean nodded and waited until he was out of earshot before he stepped close to Castiel. "What's wrong?"

Castiel didn't even pretend not to know what he was talking about. "Sam's body is falling apart. He's weakening. I can see it." Blue eyes swung over to Dean with his normal straightforward expression. "Three years ago, he started to fall apart. Before the spell." His eyes ran slowly over Dean's body next. "And it is happening to you too."

"I'm fine."

"Really?" Castiel reached out and laid his hand flat on Dean's chest. He thumped his fingers several times through the thick fleece jacket as if testing. "Your heart is weak, Dean. Sam's mind will eventually get as weak as your heart. Are you prepared for that? For what it may make you do?"

"We have bigger problems than us," Dean snapped as he pulled away from the hand touching him. "Like Eve changing monsters and demons."

Castiel still eyed him suspiciously but accepted the change of subject. "I would have thought Crowley would keep the demons away from her. But he's gone off the map, so to speak."

"What does Meg say about it?"

"She's not said anything about it. I haven't asked her." He held up a hand when Dean started to protest. "We were trading on our days spent investigating this problem, Dean. She's away right now. Nyx is with Kevin at the bunker so I could talk to you and be sure you were safe."

"Nice to know you care," Dean drawled, the sarcasm in his voice not lost on the angel.

"You're my friend, Dean. Why wouldn't I?"

"I told you to get as much information from Meg as possible, remember? You're coming to me with nothing from her," Dean demanded. The awkward conversation that they had had about the demon staying in the bunker unwatched had resulted in Castiel promising that she would help them.

"And she is working with me. You can't force Meg to do something she won't do, Dean. If anything, I've learned to let her work on her own time. She left this morning to speak to some contacts she claimed were not loyal to Abaddon." Castiel looked down at the dead monster. "I've had to learn not to hold on as tightly to you all."

Dean debated on saying something but then he remembered three years ago, how Castiel's drive to protect them had been what had caused quite a bit of trouble. This was a step in the right direction but it chafed at all his hunter instincts to trust a demon to do the right thing.

"All right, fine. Are you sticking around?"

"I need to get back to the bunker. Kevin was reading a book I found in the Metaron's old apartment about spells to use on monsters and I did say I could help him translate. I simply wanted to be sure you were all right and not needing me." He tilted his head and looked up at Dean. "Though it looks like my help was welcome."

"Well, for old times sake… thanks."

"You're welcome," the angel said with a smile that for once made him look nearly human. Dean nodded and stepped back as he disappeared from his sight.

Not sure why, he thought of his dreams of Anna and the other angels, all warning him that he was needed. Rubbing at his chest in an absent way, he barely did more than nod to Sam when his brother came back and handed him a shovel. If Sam noticed how preoccupied he was, he gave no sign. They both simply bent their backs to digging a deep enough grave to bury the massive creature in.

* * *

Castiel watched Dean and Sam from a distance and wondered why neither would admit to how sick they were both becoming. He wanted to heal them, had read all the books there were, but they all said the same thing. Spells like those, that resulted in shared souls, would crack and fall apart eventually. Humans were never meant to change their souls in such ways.

He turned to fly off and came face to face with a monster that had been sneaking up on him, its paw raised in the air. Startled by how easily it had snuck up on him, he stepped back and just barely missed being struck on the head by it. It made a chuffing sound deep in its throat and tried to struggle forward through the deep snow to get to him. Castiel realized quickly that it was a shapeshifter suffering from the same affliction as the dead creature in the clearing, but this one still had a flicker of humanity in its eyes. Everything about the way it so blindly attacked him screamed suffering.

Its bear-like head jutted down to try to grab his throat and Castiel neatly side-stepped the flailing limbs. His angel sword hummed as it fell to his palm and he flipped the blade over as he ducked another swipe, holding it level with his own shoulder. The monster landed face first onto the blade, the metal slicing through the roof of its mouth and into the brain. It didn't make a sound, simply blinked its orange eyes once or twice and then sagged completely down when Castiel twisted hard to the left to be sure that it was dead.

The angel stared down at the motionless body for a long time before he waved his hand and burnt it to ashes.

* * *

There had been so many calls about demons but the hunter who had been making his slow way down south hadn't expected to find two of them in one night. Nor in an old barn normally used by the local feedlot. He'd only happened on their little meeting out of pure coincidence, a rumour by some locals that there was a lot of sulphur smells in the area, and he was going to take advantage. It had been a long time since he had even seen a demon, let alone had them trapped. He was down to one now; the first had fallen, pierced by some silver knife that had been stabbed into its chest by the other demon, and he knew it was dead after he had shot at it with his salt-gun just to be sure.

"You know, you demons can never learn how to stay hidden." The heavy set man twisted his ball cap around and took aim in the shadows. With his gun reloaded, he made sure to keep his finger just on the trigger. "All it takes is waiting for you to show your true colours."

He thought he heard a laugh but it was hard to tell as the noise in the building started to build. The animals in the barn were making agitated sounds and he was sure that one or two of the horses was ready to explode out of their stalls in fear. The overhead loft was a perfect hiding spot, he decided.

Giving the first body a nudge to be sure it wasn't going to move, he carefully checked how many salt rounds he had left before he crept up the rickety steps. The second demon was around here somewhere but without much light he would have to be careful. A wounded demon was like trapping a wild animal, he reminded himself; you couldn't let them get the edge on you. He had hit her in the leg before and her blood made slippery patches on the steps that he carefully walked over.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," the low female voice said from somewhere in the depths of the loft. The hunter lifted his gun and turned a slow circle to try to follow the whispers of movement around him.

"Some bitch demon? Well, you're not leaving here. I'll send you right back to Hell myself," he threatened. Now if only he could remember that exorcism right. Latin had never been his best language to use.

There was almost a wistful sigh from the shadows. "Trust me, baby, there have been a lot of tries for that." He heard a boot heel striking wood, tapping impatiently, and spun around to face the loft window. The demon was leaning against a rotted beam as if she had been waiting for him to figure out she was there. The hunter quickly moved to block her way to the exit. He wasn't sure why she wasn't smoking out like others would on first opportunity; maybe she was stronger than the others he had faced. She seemed too small to be threatening but her eyes were black and that was all he needed to focus on what he cared about. Sending a demon to hell.

Her eyes went to the gun now pointed at her belly. "You ever think you walked in at the wrong moment? You simply saved me the effort of finishing off old Miles myself."

"No hunter helps a demon." He lifted the gun higher and she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle. The sound made him stare almost stupidly. Why the hell wasn't she running?

"Oh wow, you really are out of the loop." Pushing away from the window, she began to circle him and he followed her nervously. She had a way of moving that made him feel like he was about to be pounced on. "Got to wonder if you guys are still hunting and thinking you're actually making a difference. Bet reality hurts when you've really done no good. How many people still die because of you hunters?"

"Shut the hell up!" he shouted. Her words sent instant shame and fury through him, enough to blind him to the thought that she had done that deliberately.

The demon's grin was wide and mocking. "Make me."

His finger was just about to pull the trigger when she moved impossibly fast towards him. Her elbow struck him in the throat while she slammed her knee into his gut. Choking on his breath, he dropped the gun and dropped to a knee. She feinted away from him and he snatched his silver-edged knife out of his ankle holster. The demon turned before he could get it even close to her stomach but she caught it in her shoulder instead. The hunter was rewarded by her slight grunt of pain and he grabbed her in a chokehold.

But just as quickly as he had hold of her, she struck out with her hand and her fist slammed into his groin. The hunter squealed in surprise as she grabbed hold and wrenched, forcing him to let her go. Without releasing him, she slammed her head back into his face and the impact broke his nose. Howling in pain, he tried to grab for her again but the demon turned. She ducked under his arms, and punched him so that the full force of her strength struck him square on the jaw. The loud crack of bone fracturing was overshadowed by his scream as his jaw broke.

But she didn't let him fall. Instead, she held up by his throat and pushed him down onto his knees below her. He nearly wanted to weep from the pain in his face and groin and her strength was so incredible he opened his mouth to beg for his life. His jawbone made a screeching sound as the broken bone was forced to move and she smirked as she listened to him scream instead.

Her dark hair swung between them like a soft curtain of shadow, grazing his face like a gentle caress. The hunter was still whimpering he looked up into her dark eyes. Only knowing what lay beneath kept him from thinking this was some morbid dream of being beaten by a small slip of a woman. Her fingers pinched his windpipe and he continued to choke though he no longer fought her.

"It's funny," she said with a pleasant smile, as if he wasn't spitting up blood and broken teeth in his efforts to breathe. "A few years ago, I would have just ripped that ugly mug of yours off and not thought twice about it. Still would, to be honest. Maybe I just don't want to hear them bitching to me about taking care of overstuffed hunters like you."

She tapped a finger on his nose like a scolding parent. "It's your lucky day though, big guy. I wasn't here for you. You get to live another day."

His eyes widened in surprise just before she slammed her fist into the side of his temple and sent him unconscious to the ground.

"Well, that was fun," Meg drawled as she let him fall. When she was sure he wasn't about to jump at her, she knelt on his chest and thoughtfully licked her lower lip as she decided what to do. After she wiped her bloody hands on his jacket, Meg began to sort through his clothes to find his wallet. She checked the photos of his family, the expired credit cards, and his cellphone. He still had Garth in his index; lucky him, he really wouldn't have to die today. She'd been told to be more inconspicuous and right now that did make sense. Pocketing the cash he had on him, she gave his broken jaw a hard pat before she stood up.

"Sweet dreams," she muttered and headed for the exit.

* * *

With books piled high around him, there were times when Kevin felt incredibly small in the archives. He had pulled what he needed down, which resulted in mass amounts of dusty old books that smelled mouldy from storage. He had spent hours in here, humouring Nyx whenever she wandered around, but mostly focussed on his books and research. But the little girl did like his attention and to try to combine the two, he had taken to trying to teach her how to read a bit more. Nyx just had a way of rolling her eyes, much like Meg, that implied she didn't need _his_ help.

There really wasn't any doubt which of her parents she had learned that from.

Amazing how a three year old was obviously smarter than many of them thought. A few weeks ago, she had been happier drawing and playing in the archives, especially over Christmas, but Kevin knew that she was not as unaware as she had been before. She was starting to figure out that maybe she knew more than even she realized and the effect was making her question everyone a bit more.

None of it erased their own questions about her and what she could be.

Sometimes Kevin wondered if Nyx had a bit more angel in her than they had realized. Other times, when he watched her tear into something to enjoy destroying it, he thought there was more demon in her. Then there were the odd moments, here and there when she was at her most vulnerable, that he thought she was more human. They weren't big changes, but now that he was watching her more carefully Kevin thought he understood her better. She wanted to be with them all and wanted them to keep her safe.

It was likely why he didn't have the heart to send her off to play by herself when she followed him into the archives to 'help' him research. Nyx had been happy when he had put her up onto a high shelf to colour, her small body fitting easily between the slats, and he left her alone. Now and then he would look up when he would hear her talking, nonsense to him really, but he wondered if to her it made perfect sense. It disrupted the quiet just enough that he found it hard to focus.

When Castiel finally appeared, the young prophet could barely hide his relief. His hair was dusted with snow and he looked as if he thinking something over, so Kevin did his best to appear casual.

"So how were they?"

"They had found the monster." Castiel adjusted his coat before he crooked his head to the side so he could see what Kevin was reading. "I believe they are on their way back. There were more of those monsters leading down from that area. I took care of what I could as quickly as I could but even I have my limits."

Kevin really did not like the thought that Eve's Fever, as the hunters were calling it, was spreading further north.

"Garth called. Said he's noticing a pattern and he's got a lot of info coming in from all over, you know? He's coming down to Lebanon this time and we all know that is not going to go well," he explained. At the angel's curious look, he gestured around as if already picturing it. "Hunters, Cas. A lot of them will be tracking him because of that rumour about Nyx being around the Winchesters. Remember what you said about Meg and those hunters in Colorado? That's just the start of it, I bet."

He watched Castiel's face shutter up a little, as if he was considering what he'd been told. But then he turned his head away as if dismissing the conversation from his mind. The prophet knew the look that crossed his face though; Castiel was already starting to make decisions to protect his friends and family, though he might never say what he was planning.

"Where's Nyx?" he asked suddenly. Kevin went to grab another book, nearly knocking over another pile, and waved his free hand at the shelves.

Giving the prophet one more skeptical look, Castiel bent down and saw Nyx lying on her stomach between the two shelves. The books Kevin had taken had given her just enough room to lie there and she was murmuring about dragons as she rested her head on her unicorn's patchy body. She was colouring something and Castiel knelt a bit to see what it was, his head bumping the shelf as he leaned in. Huddled over the drawing, Nyx was so preoccupied that he decided not to bother her and Castiel winced when he smacked himself in the back of the head as he pulled his head back.

"Meg's back, did you know that?" Kevin asked as he unravelled an old map of Lebanon on the floor. Castiel immediately swivelled back towards him at the name.

"What?"

"Came back a few hours ago but disappeared into the spare rooms. She looked a little rougher than normal. Said she needed some time to herself… I don't remember what for. Sounded serious."

Castiel went to demand what he meant when he felt something bump against his leg and then tug at his sleeve. He glanced down to see Nyx staring up at him.

"Have you been good?" he asked automatically and she nodded. "Good."

She held up an old book towards him. "I made it pretty."

Castiel took it from her and swallowed as he realized what she had been colouring. It was one of the old antique books from the theology section. The page she had turned to was of a drawing of an angel that she had coloured in black and blue. Nyx had drawn her attempt at a dragon, green scaled with orange eyes, sitting at the etched angel's feet. Her childish scribbles were only really obvious to him, because of what he knew she liked to draw, and she looked up at him with clear hope that he liked it. The priceless pages were so frail and old that there was likely no one who knew how to fix them. Castiel doubted even his Grace could manipulate something so delicate to try to return it to normal.

One eye on Kevin, he cleared his throat noisily and ripped the page out of the book. Nyx stared up at him, wide-eyed, and he lifted a finger to his lips, shushing her. He expected her to giggle but she only stared as Castiel folded the page up and tucked it into his pocket. Kneeling down, he brushed her wavy hair out of her eyes and wondered why her skin was so warm in the cool bunker.

"Our secret," he whispered. "I'll keep it safe."

"Okay," Nyx agreed solemnly. Castiel noticed that Kevin was back to work again and he reached out to give Nyx her unicorn from the shelf.

"Have you eaten?" he asked and Nyx shrugged. "You should be having a nap soon."

"Not hungry." Her hand pressed to her stomach and her face suddenly twisted into an unhappy frown. Castiel frowned and looked up at Kevin.

"When did she eat last? It's already late."

"You're her father, shouldn't you know that?" the young man countered without looking up. When Castiel said nothing but maintained an almost threatening silence, Kevin finally gave up and gestured at the kitchen. "She had a bit of soup I found but I had to really work at it. She didn't want to eat. Said her stomach hurt. I gave her some children's aspirin but she's still not looking so great."

"Not hungry," Nyx insisted before she snatched Clarence off the floor and stomped off. Kevin made a face at her back and noticed Castiel's bewilderment.

"She's been kind of… crabby lately. Maybe it's all the moving around you guys are doing. When I was little and my mom moved us across the country, I was sick a lot." He turned back to his books. "I think I have something about how to cage those monsters with spells."

But the angel was gone again and Kevin resigned himself to researching alone again.

Castiel followed his daughter into the small common room, bypassing the kitchen and the soup still on the counter, and waited as she crawled up onto the couch and tucked herself into the worn cushions. He took a seat across from her and waited for her to settle. Finally happy with how she was wedged into the cushions, Nyx watched him like a wary little kitten, her eyes wide and her lips pursed. Patiently, he held out his hand palm up and waited for her to slip her own into it.

That she now did it without any sign of hesitation made him smile a little softer than before.

"Are you sick?" he asked and she nodded as he ran his fingers over her pulse. It was beating a little faster than normal. "I don't think I've ever seen you sick before."

"Hurts," she whispered and he reached out with both hands, one pressing over her stomach and the other to her forehead. He could feel her discomfort and her face was hot though her skin wasn't flushed. Nyx made a little sway towards him and he smoothed his hand down her face, frowning when he felt her push his hand away from her stomach. "Don't want to eat."

Castiel nodded. "You don't have to. Do you want to sleep?"

Nyx gave him a weary nod, arms going out for her unicorn and he quickly handed the toy to her. Sighing happily, she hugged it tight as he grabbed the throw blanket from the arm of the couch. Castiel watched her tuck herself down with the pillow under her head but that she didn't want to be wrapped up, that she didn't bury herself, meant that something was wrong. He ran his fingers over her stomach, pressing a little and using his Grace to try to heal her. But something pushed back sharply, and he recoiled, feeling as if his fingers had been bitten at the tips. Nyx simply rolled away and closed her eyes, murmuring about feeling too hot.

It didn't take her long to slip into a deep sleep. Castiel watched her for a while, tempted to use his Grace again but restraining himself for the sake of not waking her. Running his fingers through her hair, he thought about his time as a mortal and his brief colds and fevers. Sick children were common in humans; he could simply ask the Winchesters or Kevin, maybe even Meg, what he could do if he couldn't heal her.

The thought of the demon drew him away, leaving the lamplight on for Nyx and he even tucked another blanket over her just in case. He didn't like seeing her like that and he wasn't sure why when he had seen so much illness in his long life. He was still puzzling over it as he walked up to the spare room where he could feel Meg's presence. With her not liking the demon cell or the awkward memories it tended to invoke, they had resorted to sharing the spare room with Nyx. When she slept and needed privacy, if one of them wasn't off finding information or fighting a battle, they spent their time together in the common room or the demon cell. It was easy, Meg had claimed, to pass the time when they were occupied by something and Castiel had barely hid his relief that she was willing to stay with him in those lonely hours when he had needed her to talk to or lie with.

Meg was sitting on the edge of the bed, her jeans off and her leg propped up on the nightstand. The pose was awkward for her and the sight of her made him stop mid-stride, just long enough to see the blood dripping from her thigh and calf. The knee-joint itself looked popped out, forcing her leg to jut to an angle as Meg ran her bloody hands over her exposed leg. There was a first aid kit, towels, and a bowl of water sitting to the side but the dislocated joint was making it hard for her to move fast.

"You're hurt," he said as a greeting while he closed the door with a resolute click. Meg didn't jump at his sudden appearance, just tossed her hair over her shoulder and kept touching the flayed skin.

"Wrong end of holy water, salt rounds, and another demon." She made a face at the pain in her knee.

"The demon did this?" Castiel asked and she rolled her eyes up at him when he stood in front of her.

"No. The hunter that found me trying to get information from the demon did this. I don't think he knew what to expect. Definitely didn't know what hit him." She reached down and grasped her knee with her bare palms. Castiel watched, not offering to help, as she gave a savage wrench to one side and the knee popped back into place. Meg's muffled grunt of pain made him look to see her gnawing on her lower lip. It was clear she was expecting him to say something, but all he did at first was pull a chair close to the bed, letting the legs screech on the floor.

"Let me help you," he said as he took a seat and touched her knee, smoothing his palm over the curve of it.

"I can do this," she argued back and he shook his head fondly.

"I know, but I don't mind helping you." Castiel shot her a warning look when she went to argue before pulling her leg into his lap. The demon leaned back on her elbows to watch him as he checked the wounds.

"You do like helping me, don't you?" Meg asked with an arched eyebrow and he made an agreeable sound.

"What happened to the hunter?" he asked as he dampened a towel and began to wipe the blood from her leg. Meg hissed as he brushed the ruined flesh with the rough terrycloth.

"I ate his heart," she answered seriously. Castiel's head lifted and he met her eyes. Her grin was slow coming after she finally shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Didn't kill him but I got out of there as fast as I could once I made sure he wasn't going to follow me. It's why I'm still slow on healing. I can move fast when I need to but it tired me out."

He looked back down as he cupped her calf in his hand and raised her leg gently onto his thigh. "I know you can. Did you learn anything?"

"Only that demons are under orders to avoid the monster nests, not to cause trouble. Hell's stoppered up and Purgatory isn't touching it any longer so Abaddon is trying to get everyone in order. If you can believe that." Her head bent to watch as he began to clean a salted wound next. "Rumours are flying about Azazel."

"What rumours?" He tore a strip of gauze off and wrapped the lower part of her leg gently.

"That he wants me brought in. What the demon knew wasn't much but she was pretty sure she could take me down if she had to. To _prove_ to Azazel that she could." She hissed as he checked the flesh higher on her leg, the part close to her thigh more tortured by the burns of holy water and salt. Castiel made a soft murmur in his throat and ran his thumb over the delicate skin after he dabbed antiseptic on it. Meg didn't move as he began wrapping over the red and angry burns and she could see his concern in the way he frowned and concentrated on her injuries. "The hunter just got lucky, is all."

"Mm."

Meg stared at the top of his head suspiciously. "That's it? 'Mm'? You're usually a bit more chatty than that when I go off like that."

"I'd be stupid if I hadn't learned that in these situations you want to be left to take care of it on your own," Castiel said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Correct?"

"Don't get smug, Clarence."

"I know you, Meg. That's all." He left her leg in his lap, stroking his hand absently over the uninjured part of her thigh while watching her face. Sitting up, Meg stared back and then rolled her eyes when he didn't look away.

"Aren't you romantic?" Reaching down, she plucked at his fingers with absent affection. "Any news on the monster side?"

"Dean and Sam killed that monster in Utah and one attacked me in the open. They were something different, something worse than before." Gently moving her leg aside, he stood up and took a seat beside her on the bed before pushing her hair to the side so he could check the bruises on her neck. Meg tipped her head to the side to let him and he traced his fingers over the marks on her skin. "I've heard things. About Eve. It looks like this sickness is spreading through the monsters and demons just by infection."

"That demon I caught did say," she hissed when he touched a sensitive bruise, "that Crowley warned them to stay back and that there were a lot of them that were scared to do more than creep around. It's been a month, Cas. No one has moved an inch and all we really have are rumours."

"You're getting restless," he observed and turned her to check the torn back of her shirt. A knife had been dragged through her skin deep enough to graze the muscle. With the placid air of a doctor treating a patient, he pulled the shirt over her head and reached for the gauze. Meg sat before him, nearly naked now but not moving away from his touch.

"I don't like fighting enemies I can't see. Do you?"

"No, I don't." He cleaned the dirt off. "Especially when there is one I've never met in a fight." His other hand holding her hair to the side, he swiped the antiseptic over the wound. "What is Azazel like when he fights?"

"Old Yellow-Eyes? Brutal. In a different way than Abaddon because he's not always physical but he was the one demon I never wanted angry against me."

"Like an Archangel," Castiel murmured. It was easy to remember his own struggles with Michael, Lucifer and Raphael.

"He's old, Cas, and age in demons means strength. When he fights, he fights to win and he spent centuries manipulating all of Earth and Hell for Lucifer. He has his own way of doing things." Her head tilted on the side while he measured the gauze for her shoulder. "No one knew all of his plans. I never would have guessed about Sam's real purpose until he told me. I sometimes wonder why he made my deal."

Castiel stared at her profile thoughtfully but said nothing as he finished taping the gauze, tapping her shoulder to indicate he was done. Meg shook herself a little and he let his hand rest on the small of her back, feeling the cold skin and the deep breaths she was taking. What little he knew of her past life, the one before her time in Hell, was something he'd never thought much on. What had made her was her time in Hell, her time as a demon, and despite his doubts maybe that pain and suffering had been what had attracted him eventually. It was natural, he thought, that now Meg's doubts were becoming his own.

For demon like Azazel to take a personal interest in the black-eyed demon wasn't strange if it was only to sacrifice her to his own battles. But to call her his daughter as if she really was one was strange to an angel used to the more apathetic view Crowley and Abaddon took to their fellow demons. Maybe some demons saw each other as family, the same as angels, but with more mistrust. From what Dean had told him, Yellow-Eyes had looked on Meg and that other demon, Tom, as his children. Was it as simple as him seeing her defection to this neutral territory as a betrayal? Or was there something more?

He felt her shift around, grabbing a shirt from the messy pile at the foot of the bed, and looked at her again. She slid one leg, then the other over his hips to sit on his lap. The movement wasn't sexual, and she eyed him with suspicion as she pulled the button down over herself. Castiel merely stared back at her as he rested his hands on her hips.

"You're thinking. I can tell. You think so loud sometimes, Clarence," Meg said and, startled by that insight, he nearly blurted out what he was thinking about Azazel. But his hands brushed the gauze on her leg and he thought of someone else who was hurting.

"Nyx is feeling sick," he said instead. Meg frowned.

"She doesn't get sick." When he went to argue that she was a small child, likely to get sick, Meg held up a hand. "Trust me on this. What I remember from those three years was that she was never really sick, Castiel. What's wrong?"

He listed the symptoms and even spoke on how distracted the little girl seemed. "Maybe it is all the moving back and forth," he finished.

"Or maybe what is happening is affecting her." Meg absently ran her hands up and down his arms and he watched her expression turn thoughtful.

"Garth is coming." Her eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "Kevin thinks there will be hunters with him. Or following him. The Winchesters were talking earlier about fighting the monsters head on. Maybe it concerns that." He lifted his hand and placed it on her back. "Which means Nyx won't be safe here anymore. We'll have to leave."

Meg leaned into the touch. "I'm not stupid, Cas. You don't want to leave. As much as you are all about protecting Nyx, you're all about protecting your humans too."

"You could leave with Nyx," he countered and Meg shook her head.

"Who's going to protect you then?" she grumbled, moving to step off of him. Castiel rolled his eyes upward and despite her struggling he clamped his hands on her hips and held her still. "Azazel wants _me_ , Castiel, not you. Not Dean or Sam. So you guys face the monsters, I'll figure him out, but I can't take Nyx on that."

"Eve wanted you and I. She wants the Winchesters dead and she wants Nyx's blood for some reason. That makes it our fight, not just the Winchesters. Azazel and whatever it is he wants can wait. If you stay with me, you have to fight with me."

Meg exhaled. "Still stupid that Eve wants anything from me. You, I get. You and the _Wimpchesters_ were the idiots that crossed her in the first place." Castiel chose to ignore that and the demon gestured at him, her red lips pulled into a frown. "There's nothing about me she should want."

"You helped create life. That is something that had never happened between our kind before," he answered and his hand flattened on her belly, remembering how it had swelled once as proof. He stared down at his hand and remembered how impossible and how incredible had felt to feel life within her back then.

"You claimed that was all your daddy's work, remember?" Meg's voice had a contemptuous edge to it and he looked up.

"I'm not so sure it was only him." Meg frowned and finally moved off of him to get dressed. Castiel wiped his hands off on the towel and sighed. "So what do we do about Nyx if neither of us wants to leave? We can't send her off by herself and she is too curious not to appear suddenly to the hunters. We can't risk more humans knowing what she is. If Nyx is ill and I can't heal her…"

Meg tipped her head towards him and reached out to put her hand over his mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. "You're rambling." His impressive glare down at her she ignored. "You had a point, Clarence. Kids get sick. Maybe we just wait and see for that but for everything else?"

The door creaked open and they both turned to face Kevin. He looked unbothered by the strange intimacy between them or Castiel's annoyed look when he knew that the young man had been eavesdropping.

"I've got an idea of where to take Nyx."

* * *

Eve ran her tongue over her dripping fangs before they receded, and her white eyes flickered to orange and then brown. Across from her, a changed demon was struggling to continue its transformation but without the seed, nothing would take root. All she could do was change her own kind now and she wanted to destroy them all for the sake of it.

"You're getting weaker," Azazel said from where he sat on an old junkyard car. They had come to the abandoned junkyard closer to town, where more and more of her offspring were trying to live even though a painful death seemed inevitable. The change that had been so easy before was getting difficult for them to survive in the first place. "Maybe it is your age."

The look the Mother sent him was murderous. "I'm dying."

"You are." He watched her head twist left and right, like an animal scent for a kill. "Not the first time either."

"The first time, my soul stayed in Purgatory, my true home, which is the only reason why my children could bring me back. Failing again was…"

"A problem." He smirked. "You were betrayed before. So I simply suggest you focus more simply. On revenge. Kill the Winchesters and the hunters. Your experiment on the demon failed; maybe you overextended your power. Without Adam, your other half, what power do you have left to try to continue?"

Her eyes were narrowed. "You're suggesting I trust you?"

"No. I just like the thought of the Winchesters dead."

"But you want that demon and her child still." When he smiled, Eve's suspicions about him deepened.

"Kill the Winchesters and their angel. You are more than able to. Then everything will work out for the best." He stepped back over the changing demon. "I'll send you some of Crowley's fresher demons to work on. To change. Gather your monsters to you for protection and be ready for an attack. The Winchesters will plan something reckless, I'm sure of it."

"I want Crowley as well. The demon child you can have so long as I get a taste of her."

"Done." He turned to go when Eve suddenly appeared in front of him.

"What do you want in return, demon?" she demanded. "Your kind always wants something."

Azazel's face turned sly. "A few of your kind to throw them off of _my_ work."

"I will still want to taste that demon's blood."

"Have it. What I need from her is something more… internal."

"Fine. I will give you what I can spare from the nest," she agreed and that sly grin widened.

Eve frowned and watched as he walked away from her, saying over his shoulder, "Oh, and send those you promised to me in a few hours. I'll need them. Before you begin to plan for your little war."

As desperate as she was to kill as many hunters as she could in the process of getting her revenge, the Mother didn't ignore the instinctive warning going through her that to trust this demon was a mistake. Her eyes wandered to the monsters standing ready for her orders and she noticed that the change was starting to touch even the strongest of them now. Sooner or later, the fever would continue to corrupt all of the once pure strains of monsters and turn them into something more vicious, something more beautiful. Something that couldn't fail to take their proper place in ruling this wretched world.

* * *

When the Winchesters finally came back, exhausted from the long drive, Dean's reaction to Garth's visit and the hunters likely following him was exactly what Meg had expected. While Sam gave a resigned sort of head-shake and shrug, his brother stalked up and down the main room, ranting about how it was the sort of crap he didn't expect from their friend. Even if it was about monsters and demons, they, Dean pointed out, worked better on their own. Of course, Meg knew he wasn't really including her with the rest of them. Rather than take offence, she simply goaded him into more shouting by reminding him how much trouble other hunters could be.

Eventually, Castiel's not-so-subtle warning squeeze to her hand warned her not to take her fun too far.

Still, Dean's grumbling and snapping at all of them wasn't as surprising as his almost pleasant greeting to Garth when the hunter pulled up in his fire-trap of a car. Still in the bunker with Castiel, Meg nursed her glass of whisky as she watched the video feed. The brothers had had him drive in a back way up the dirt roads to the bunker and Sam's surveillance cameras hadn't picked up anyone else following.

"Well, well, isn't that a sight?" Garth was all big toothy grin, obvious even on the video camera, and he slapped hands with Dean. "Never thought I'd see you idjits again, or be here again. Life's funny, huh?"

"Still trying the Bobby lingo, huh?" Dean asked as he led the way in. They were gone for a few minutes, in the blind spots of the video feed, and expectantly Kevin, Meg and Castiel all filed out to the main room to wait for them. Dean was busy locking up but Garth swaggered in, and whistled as he looked around at the bunker.

"Never fails to impress."

Dean bumped him on the shoulder and led him into the main room, where Kevin muttered a hello that he answered with a tight hug. The hunter turned around and spotted Castiel and Meg, the angel wisely backing up to avoid any potential hugging.

"Wow, just like old times," Garth said with a jovial grin at them. He pointed at the demon, lacking any real fear or concern about what she was. He had seen her at her worst and decided that it made her less frightening than most demons. "Last time I saw you was when you burned Mr. Fizzles."

The grin she gave him was nasty but Sam's appearance beat her to any response. The same hand-slapping greeting, and then Castiel was thumped playfully on the shoulder hard. The lanky hunter grinned, nudging him in the ribs.

"Guess your type of therapy worked on her, eh? Better than puppet counselling."

Castiel understood and sheepishly looked away from Meg. "It wasn't exactly therapy."

"Yeah huh. Whatever. First things first. I wasn't followed." At the Winchesters' dumbfounded expressions, he smirked. "I figured you guys would be all pissy over that. I'm real good at keeping a low profile when I want to. They're coming off highways anyway and I took the backroads. Gave me time to make extra calls and make sure I had all the intel we needed."

"Kevin said you noticed a pattern?" Sam popped a few pills into his mouth and chewed on them, ignoring Dean's speculative look. Garth undid his pack and turned to unravel a map on the table. There were circled dots all around and both brothers leaned over to look. The marks and lines resembled a large chain surrounding a central point marked with a star.

"What about it?"

"All the attacks are central for this area, and there is a lot that lead back to Picher. My guess is the monsters are using some wooded areas, maybe a few abandoned houses, to travel safely. The town is small and quiet, pretty desolate at times too. Perfect for them to be hiding out." He pointed at each section and then reached into his pocket for a sharpie. "When we back track in straight lines, each set of attacks has been different but pretty damn vicious. Few survivors. Vampires, werewolves, and something new none of us really knew about. Something weird."

"Big, vicious things? Tend to not fall unless you chop off the heads or hit the heart?" Dean asked and at the other man's nod he sighed. "We've been getting an influx of them in Kansas."

Castiel stepped close to Meg to peer over her shoulder. "No demon sightings?"

"None. I mean I got a call about one in Hastings but that hunter is in the hospital in a serious condition. Not gonna get much out of him right now since his jaw is all smashed up."

Meg tilted her head and her lips quirked up a bit.

"Anyway." Garth drew lines. "Each attack happens in patterns. Gets worse the closer you get to this central area to where each point leads. My guess is whatever is causing it, is right there."

Dean ran his hand over his scruffy jaw. "It'll be Eve. Last time she picked a town to base out of and now we've got no idea how to kill her."

"If the Metatron killed Adam, her other half, then she is weaker. Meg and I watched it. It was an exorcism and a silver blade. Maybe we can find something in those books I brought back," Castiel said, trying to comfort the glum expressions on their faces.

"Or we send her back to Purgatory," Kevin offered. "I mean, she was put there and only Dragons knew how to get her out, right?"

"Maybe but then she might get through to Hell again. Dragons aren't easy to find either. Unless Castiel can work a miracle on that end." Ignoring Castiel's sudden interested look, Sam bent over the map and sighed. "If all of those attacks are happening around this area, then we could hit this point. Take out as many of her offspring as possible and see if we can either capture her or weaken her completely."

"They're infecting the other monsters. We've seen it," Dean said.

Meg tapped the map. "Not to mention demons. Whatever she's been doing is changing them if it doesn't kill them."

"Not a bad thing," Garth offered and her dark eyes went to his face.

"There's a big difference between normal demons and half-crazed with pain demons, Stretch."

"Is there? I dealt with you for a bit, remember?" he asked with a happy grin and she gave him an appreciative smirk.

"That was just tip of the iceberg for knowing about me."

"Okay, you two, stop the flirting." Dean waved his hand and the matching disgusted looks he was shot made Sam smile. "If we can get some sort of team together, cripple Eve and destroy her offspring, then she's vulnerable."

"Destroy her guard and find a way to fully take her power away," Castiel muttered. "We'll need help. There are so many paths into that area."

"Mmhmm." Garth tapped several spots in the South. "I can call in hunters from the surrounding areas. Do a flash burn over the ground to burn out any nests there and take away any hiding places. But others will be coming in from the North, which gives me another question." Leaning on the map with his knuckles, he looked at Castiel and Meg. "Rumours were true, weren't they?"

Castiel met his stare. "Yes."

Garth licked his lower lip and smirked. "Not bad. Way to give me more shit to deal with." He leaned back and looked around at the Winchesters. "I can't guarantee they aren't going to be pissed over this, guys. To them, this is another monster or demon to try to kill."

"Garth, come on, man," Sam started and the thinner man glared at him.

"We've been through a lot. When will you Winchesters start really trusting me?"

"It's not their business either. It is ours," Meg said, crossing her arms and Garth turned towards her.

"I've heard stories about you, Meg. Before these guys stopped the Apocalypse. Before Cas involved himself in your little story. About how you killed hunters, tortured them too. Did it all with a smile on your face, so I wouldn't be far off the mark for thinking you're up to no good," he said. Ignoring her impatient scoff, he stared at Dean and Sam again. "Then there's you guys getting to pick and choose who you fight with and complaining to me for not trusting you. So give me a little hint as to why I should trust what this demon has to say. For all I know, you guys are sitting on some sort of demonic atomic bomb and are blind to it because she's lying to you."

"You need to trust _us,"_ Dean said forcefully and Garth shook his head, looking away. "Garth, you know how we are, you know what we…"

Garth only half-heard him as he turned away and saw a small girl peeking out from behind the shelving unit behind Meg and Castiel. He could only stare at how small she was, at how large her eyes were with her face framed in long black-brown waves. She was clutching a stuffed toy unicorn while dressed in a too big plaid shirt overtop of bright purple leggings, and the entire time her eyes darted over all of them nervously. Everything about the girl's appearance seemed so…so… _human_.

"Who's she?" he asked, nodding at her. They all turned in unison towards her. To the hunter's surprise, she ran for Meg and clutched her leg to hide behind it. When she stole a look up at Garth, her remarkably blue eyes made him feel as if a shock sparked through him.

"Nyx, this is Garth. Garth, Nyx," Sam introduced. Garth was sure his jaw fell open, especially with how affectionate Sam sounded over the child. "Garth, she's the 'monster' you guys were all scared over."

Nyx made an offended sound and looked up at Meg. "Not a monster!"

"Oh, yes you are," Meg said but her eyes were on Garth. He came around the table and stared at her, aware that Meg put herself between them on purpose.

"This… this is the supposed big bad?" he asked, bewildered, and he crouched in front of her. Nyx stared up at him, chewing on her lower lip. "Hi there."

Castiel stood behind Meg and Nyx looked up at him next. He was staring at Garth, pinning him with a look that warned him not to try anything. When she reached out and tugged on his hand, he looked down at her. "It's okay, Nyx."

Garth dug into his pocket and handed her a wrapped candy. "I'm a friend of Dean and Sam."

"Hi." Taking the candy, she gave him a speculative look. "You're skinny."

"You're short," he said in a friendly way, and she smiled agreeably. Garth watched her fiddle with the plastic, eyes wandering over her from head to toe and then he nodded, getting up slowly. "She looks human."

He didn't see Meg's warning look at the Winchesters but both men nodded. "Probably more human than you guess," Dean said, eyeing Meg warily.

"I can see that. But the other hunters won't give you that chance when they show up. We go to war, they want to know you are with them 100%. Not dividing up your loyalties."

"So despite everything we've done, everything we've lost, we still have to prove ourselves to other hunters?" Dean's voice rose in a shout and Meg felt Nyx's hand slip into hers, squeezing. Castiel watched his friend closely, seeing his anger and the effect his temper had on an already bad heart.

"You think you guys own the 'suffer for the cause' moniker?" Garth demanded. "Look, I trust you. I can see how normal that little girl is. I can even get how an angel has become your friend and, for some reason I can even get how a demon started working with you. But there's a lot more to this than me. I can just bring them in, I can't control them."

"So I'm supposed to stand back and let them threaten a three-year-old girl before they help us?" Dean didn't lower his voice and Sam reached out to clasp his arm.

"You're scaring her."

They all looked down to see her clinging to Meg's leg, her eyes moving rapidly from person to person as if trying to figure out what was wrong. Meg squeezed her small fingers back but Castiel noticed her other hand going to her jacket, where he saw the glint of a knife. Moving quietly as the hunters tried to school in their tempers, he leaned in and whispered in her ear for her to calm down. The demon looked away but nodded.

"Nyx won't be here, when they get here," Castiel spoke quietly, but his low raspy voice broke through whatever angry haze Dean was seeing through. All the hunters turned to look at him and Meg. "Kevin has come up with a solution that I've agreed to. It is just a matter of getting her there."

"Where? Angel daycare?" Dean asked sarcastically. Nyx was staring up at her parents and it was clear that this was the first she had heard of it.

"Somewhere safe. One of you needs to take her."

"Why us?" Sam asked.

"Because of all of us, Meg and I are the ones being watched more closely by Heaven and Hell, especially where Nyx is concerned. If we use Meg's old car, the chance of you being followed is slim." Castiel's eyes darted to Garth and the hunter nodded.

"Ah, gotcha. I'm not part of this. I'll go make some calls and unpack old Reliable out there." He retreated amicably and the Winchesters turned on the demon and angel when the door shut behind him.

"Where are you putting her that is so mythically safe?" Sam frowned. "Like the safe-house? I thought you said you didn't want us leaving visible tracks to there."

"It's a place no one but us has been to in years. Kevin thought of it." Castiel took a seat on the chair and Nyx crawled onto his lap without speaking. "Chuck's."

"Chuck's?" Sam stared. "Drunk Chuck? Chuck who hasn't really done much in years? Chuck who basically told us all to get lost? That Chuck?"

Kevin nervously shrugged. "Uh, yeah."

"There's a plan," Dean muttered and he looked at Meg. "And you're going along with this?"

The demon said nothing but Nyx huffed. "Don't want to go."

Castiel sighed. "We don't want you to go either. But it's to keep you safe. And that way you can feel better."

"She's sick?" Sam asked and Meg gave him a short, jerky nod.

"Just a flu. Kid thing I guess."

"Huh. So if you two don't take her, who is going?"

Automatically, Dean leaned forward. "You."

"What?" Sam's voice rose. "You can't be serious!"

"I trust you more than I'd trust anyone else, Sam. And Nyx loves you to death. You're a good choice." He noticed Castiel's suspicious look and he kept going to avoid the angel asking any questions. "And you can find Chuck's house easier than Kevin I bet."

The prophet said nothing to that.

"Why Chuck though?" Dean asked Meg. "You hated him."

"Chuck's house has always been next to impossible for most angels to find and the demons won't look if we find hexbags," Castiel explained but the hunter waved his hand.

"I'm asking her."

Meg looked away and still refused to answer. Dean's suspicions only deepened but Sam's protests snapped him out of it.

"I can handle myself, Dean. I need to be here."

"We're not going to fight without you, Sam, stop worrying. I want you to do this," he said, voice gentling. On Castiel's lap, Nyx was watching them as her father helped her fix her shirt buttons so she was dressed properly.

"I'm supposed to fight with you," Sam snapped, pulling him to the side and Dean sighed.

"I'm not asking you to do this, Sam. I'm telling you. Of the two of us, you can do this. I can handle the hunters, Cas and Meg can help us fight and keep their sides out of it. You were always great at taking care of others, you know that. You take Kevin and Nyx to Chuck's, you get back here and fight, okay?" The brothers stared each other down until finally Sam took in a deep breath, looking away.

"Fine."

"Good. We'll get her car out and you get there as fast you can, before anyone else figures out what we're up to."

* * *

Nyx was quiet as Meg packed her bag up and when the demon turned back to grab a sweater she was stubbornly still perched on-top of her dresser. Meg cocked her head on the side. She hadn't said a word since they had left the main room "You still sick?"

"No." There was a curt note in her voice that Meg didn't like. Defiantly, Nyx toppled a book Castiel had given her so it crashed on the floor and the spine broke. Instantly, she looked upset by what she had done and fidgeted as if expecting her mother to say something. But Meg only waited, her dark eyes wandering over that usually innocent face to see her anger. "I don't want to go."

"It'll keep you safe. Won't be forever."

"Said he wasn't gonna leave." Nyx crossed her arms over her chest. "And now you're gonna leave too."

"Hey." Meg snapped her fingers so the little girl had to focus on her. "Don't start that. You like Kevin and Sam. Kevin will keep you safe. You can't stay here. We have to fight monsters."

"Why?" Nyx asked and Meg for a moment didn't answer. She wasn't sure what to think because she really didn't know. If it had been years ago, she would have disappeared, laid low for a long time until it was all over. Screw the humans, the demons, the angels; every survivalist instinct in her was warning her that she should keep under the radar for this one. But she also remembered what Adam had snarled in her ear as he tortured her, remembered how every species seemed to be interested in her now.

Meg put her finger on Nyx's chin to get her to look up.

"We're going to keep you safe, kid." She smiled and her lips lost their razor sharp edge for something softer.

"What if you don't come back?" Nyx asked as she began to pluck at Meg's leather sleeve and the demon leaned down so they were closer.

"You think I won't?" Behind her, she was aware of Castiel arriving to carry Nyx down to the car. The little girl reached up and wrapped her arms tight around her mother's neck, hugging her. Growing more and more used to these random spurts of affection and love, Meg simply held her back. "Nyx. You are going to take care of Kevin and I'm going to make sure your dad here doesn't get hurt."

Nyx finally noticed Castiel in the doorway and jumped down off the dresser to hug his legs next. She turned her face up at him while her lower lip thrust out in a pout. "I don't want to go."

He hesitated, obviously conflicted when faced with a large pair of blue eyes that looked at him as if he had hurt her deliberately. Castiel wanted her safe but he loved having her with him, enjoyed making up for the years he had lost because he found her so fascinating. But he also noticed Meg giving him that same look she had years ago when he was prattling on and on about birds and bees. Her expression was was exasperated, warning him not to give in and he patted Nyx's head awkwardly.

"Do what your mother says."

Those blue eyes went from beseeching to insolent. "You're mean."

"Ah, well." He turned his pleading expression on Meg for help and the demon rolled her eyes.

"Nyx?" When she turned around, Meg glared down at her. "Don't torment him. He's not as smart as you."

That actually seemed to delight her and Castiel watched her go running out of the room to find Dean and Sam, dragging Clarence after her. Meg tossed Castiel the bag she'd packed but instead of leaving with it, he blocked her way out. "You're sure about this?"

"Aren't you?" The retort was sharp enough that he flinched.

"I don't like leaving her." He tilted his head and stepped forward. "And I don't think you do either."

She leaned against the dresser as he came closer. "Don't get all wimpy on me now, Clarence."

"They want to fight Eve and her monsters. I've done this before, Meg; it isn't easy. I'm not sure you understand that."

"So that's why you're blocking me?" she challenged and he reached out as she tried to slip by, his hand in hers. He pulled just hard enough to draw her into him. Meg made a groan as he shouldered her back and held her steady. Before he could say a word, she rocked up and planted a quick kiss on his mouth. When she broke it, her mouth hovered just under his own lips and he felt the bite of her teeth grazing his skin. He tasted her mouth once more and could barely hide the eager response he had to her kiss.

"If you wanted me to yourself, Castiel, just say it," Meg murmured against his mouth. He followed her down as she stepped into him, head tilting back to invite more. He felt her head touch his shoulder as she brushed her lips over his and he leaned down into her. His arm wrapped around her waist and he felt her eagerness to continue the kiss as she raised a hand up to his hair. Her lips parted as he stroked his tongue over them and then he kissed her just as teasingly as she had kissed him.

"Ah-hem." Kevin coughed and Meg groaned, breaking away from Castiel. "I'm good to go."

Letting Meg go, Castiel cleared his throat. "All right."

The way the prophet waited patiently at the door meant that he wasn't about to leave them alone and Meg grumbled as she fixed her jacket and stalked ahead of them. Noticing Kevin's teasing grin, Castiel simply followed the demon down to the doorway.

Nyx was already outside at the car, hanging around Dean as he lectured Sam on the best way to drive Meg's car. Throwing the duffle bag in the trunk, the demon felt Nyx grab hold of her hand next to lead her to the car. She helped her into the car seat and crouched down beside the door, watching as the girl settled herself in before she gave the surroundings a perplexed look.

Handing over Clarence, Meg tapped her knee to get her attention. "You behave."

"Don't want to go," Nyx muttered.

"We'll come as soon as we can," Meg said, voice softening to a level that she would never let the Winchesters hear. "You be safe and we'll come find you."

"Promise?" Nyx asked.

"You know it, monster." Meg watched her finally smile. "Make sure Sam buys you food and lets you drive."

"Okay." Her arms went around Meg's neck before she could pull back and the demon froze up, still so unused to such open affection. Nyx held on tightly and whispered in her ear, "I'm scared."

"It'll be over soon." Meg smiled and finally hugged her back. For some reason, that little tinge of illness she had felt in Nyx seemed to die down a little and Nyx murmured that she felt better. When Meg let her go, her skin wasn't as hot to touch. Over her shoulder, she felt Castiel reach over to ruffle their daughter's hair.

"Be good," he whispered and Nyx nodded, happily bundling herself and Clarence up into the thick blanket Meg gave her.

With a final handshake, Sam went to the front seat without pausing to look at Meg or Castiel. He was angry and frustrated at Dean's orders to take Nyx and Kevin to Chuck's, but all of his years of obedience meant that he did as he was told. Snapping at Kevin to get in the car, Sam barely acknowledged Castiel or Meg. They stepped back as Kevin squeezed into the seat beside Nyx and in a spray of dirt and gravel the car was driving away without any goodbye. Seeing his friend's concern, Dean stepped up beside Castiel but the angel didn't turn to look at him.

"Sam didn't realize you were sending him away deliberately, did he?"

The eldest Winchester shrugged. "Doesn't matter if he did. Get the plans from Garth, we're going to get to Picher as quick as possible and get this done with. At least if Sam and Kevin are out of the way, if we need a second wave they can figure it out."

Castiel noticed Meg's curious gaze. "We'll survive this, Dean."

He was given a wry grin. "Of course you two will. What can kill you two?"

Dean walked away from them and Castiel wondered vaguely what had happened to make Dean so certain that sending his brother away was the greatest thing he could do for them all. When Meg stepped close to him, her fingers brushed his coat sleeve and she shook her head. "I don't like this. He was super protective over Sam and Nyx. More than normal."

"He's been troubled since learning the spell with him and Sam is breaking down," he answered as he led her back into the bunker.

"No cure for that, huh?"

"There's cures." He waited for her at the top of the steps. "But nothing permanent. They'll be scarred for the rest of their lives with what we did to them. I don't think that either of them will ever recover."

"Is Sam's soul still damaged by the trials?" Meg asked and he sighed, trying to think of how to explain to her.

"It is as if he… he…" He reached out and touched her shoulder, feeling the gauze even through her jacket. "It is like he was patched up from pieces of Dean's soul and it never really worked. He'll never be as strong as he was before."

"Then why don't you just undo the spell completely and give Dean back his half, and Sam his? Maybe when the souls are back in the right place, they'll take care of themselves," she asked simply as she passed him, unaware that the angel had stopped to watch her. He stared as if she had said something profound and then looked at where Dean was packing up his weapon bag.

* * *

"Maybe," he muttered but the hunter's insistent orders that he help back the supplies up kept him from disappearing to see if it could be done.

Not wanting to risk even more people learning where the bunker was, Garth and Dean had found a small bar close to the border of Kansas and Oklahoma, still a safe distance from the central site where they figured Eve was hiding. With Castiel and Meg in the front seat with him, Dean parked the Impala in an alley and sat back to watch. Meg sat between them, her eyes searching the approaching cars, while Castiel remained as alert as he always was. Cars were pulling up of all makes, some looking as rough as the hunters that parked them and made their way into the building. It was obvious that they weren't about to be lacking hunters from the Midwest area.

"I spoke to Garth to get our stories straight," Dean said finally and he looked at Meg. "To all these people, you're a human hunter. Unless you get exposed, then you're on your own."

"And Wings here?"

"Most of them know Cas by hearsay. Plus he sucks at hiding what he is sometimes," Dean explained and Castiel turned his head to glare at him. The hunter looked at Meg. "Am I right?"

"He's got a point, Clarence. You're not real subtle." He glared at her next before he huffed and looked out the window. He ignored their chuckling.

"I am just more aware of what I am than the rest of you," he said as if it was an excuse and Meg leaned into him, teeth snapping gently at the air close to his ear. Reluctantly, he looked back at her and their eyes locked when she smirked wickedly at him.

"Don't pout, Castiel. We're not alone for me to improve your mood. Not that I mind but Dean-o here will."

Dean snorted rudely. "You guys are disgusting."

Castiel looked away but reached between himself and Meg to give her hand a squeeze. She smirked and then looked back at Dean.

"So the master plan is…?"

"We keep you under the radar and we all divide up to lead groups into Eve's little lair she has. Set up traps, explosions, lure them all out. We can try to kill her, or at least take care of the infected monsters we were told about. You two are going to follow my lead and you," he pointed his finger at Meg, "aren't going to act like you normally do. Try to play nice."

She groaned and looked away. "This is going to be torture."

* * *

In the heat of the hunters' arguments, it was Dean who acted the worse of all of them. His temper, already frayed from forcing Sam to take Nyx and Kevin north and his own poor health, was threatening to explode and only Castiel's calm presence kept him from saying more things that he would regret. Some of these hunters he had known a long time; hunted with, been raised with, even learned from. All of them had had their nerves rubbed raw from the monster attacks, from the way many of them had been dragged into the Winchesters' problems before. No one wanted to listen if there wasn't a hundred percent chance of success.

"We're going to be fighting a losing battle, trusting you to lead us!" said one man who had designated himself as a leader of his own group.

"Not if we work together. We need to cut the ground out from under Eve. That means no more in-fighting between us. We've all been attacked by these things and we're losing more and more of us when we hunt on our own. The infected monsters are now outnumbering the normal ones," Dean said.

Standing at the door, dwarfed by the large man and woman on either side of her, Meg watched the leader side of him take over. It gave her time to carefully watch each of the hunters to see who would give them problems.

"You want us to face off against all of those changed monsters? A few years ago you said so yourself that killing Eve was nearly impossible. What makes this time any different?"

"Nothing. But this time we know how to handle her. If we get rid of her offspring, get rid of that threat, we can trap her back into Purgatory."

Another hunter leaned forward. He had the craggy face of a man worn down by a long time spent hunting, his eyes deeply etched with loss and sadness. "Look, Dean. All of us got great respect for you and your brother, for your whole family. But we've seen the damage this monster's kids do."

Castiel shifted his weight. "It's no worse than before. It seems that way. Monsters were quiet for years. Now they've been infected."

"What about your kind, angel? They willing to help?" the first man asked and he said nothing, causing a murmur through the crowd. "So that's our ace? A single angel? Great."

Meg's eyes went to Castiel's.

"Cas can handle himself. Here's what we do." Dean laid out the plan in a soft spoken way but there was steel in his voice, that made every instruction a warning that vibrated through the packed room. He ignored the arguments, ignored the way Garth had to soothe a few disgruntled hunters, and simply explained the plan that Castiel had helped him with. The right sort of bait, the right moment, and with the right set of explosives and traps, which all hunters carried, could at least take care of the large nest in Picher.

It would leave Eve without her protective packs of changed creatures and put her on the run. Hopefully enough for Castiel to get close enough to strike with an angel sword and try an exorcism the way Metatron had. If Eve did infest a body the same way as Adam, maybe they had a chance.

Dean looked up and his eye caught Meg's. He wondered at the small spark of approval he thought he saw in her half-smile. A hunter close to him cleared his throat and distracted him from thinking too much about it.

"That's it?"

"No. It won't be that easy." Dean leaned back. "But better we take care of this now before more and more monsters get sick. Get out there and form a loose perimeter. Keep in touch and we leave in the morning."

He watched them file out and then turned to Garth, nodding to him.

Meg watched the hunters leave before she moved away from the wall. It had been so hard to stay here, in the middle of all of these enemies, and not do a thing about it.

"What about Benny?" she asked when they were alone.

"I've tried calling. Either he's been killed," there was a bit of grief in Dean's voice, "or he's in too deep to answer. We can't depend on him for answers. Not anymore." He gave a bitter chuckle. "I guess it is just one more failed plan, huh?"

Meg knew he really wasn't asking her opinion.

A hand slid around her waist, touched her skin under her shirt, and she looked up at Castiel. He said nothing, just led her back to the table as for the fifth time Dean laid out what he wanted them to do. Meg said nothing about the plans, just struggled not to focus on the thought that they really were going into this nearly blind.

* * *

Chuck yawned as he scratched at his short beard and stumbled for the door. The moonlight was already peeking over the trees, the brightness of it made harsh by the icy snap of winter wind. Still it was better than the stale air of the house. He had a few hours to try to write something, anything, more than what he had tried in the past few weeks since Christmas. But first the mail. There was always the possibility that there was a letter that could distract him for a few hours. Which would be just what he needed.

Stretching an arm over his head, he let his ratty bathrobe fall apart and the cold draft from under his front door nipped at his toes. As bundled up as he had been the night before, now it was all pretty damn cold even with the heat running on high.

"Should have paid for that door to get fixed," he muttered as he popped the lock. A shadow across his front step didn't bother him. He knew exactly who it was. He simply kept rambling on, "Look, Ned. I told you that I wasn't stealing your paper anymore. It was all a big misunderstanding the first few times."

The sight of Sam Winchester on his doorstep made him stare, wide-eyed and incredulous that the tall young man had found him yet again. Like a smaller shadow, Kevin was right beside him; that wasn't strange and Chuck frowned when the prophet held up his mail for him.

"What are you guys doing here?" he demanded.

"Hi to you too, Chuck," Sam said dryly, turning away and bending down. Chuck glared at the back of his head and grunted.

"No offence, but every time I see you and your brother things tend to go downhill fast for me." He went to close the door but Kevin swung his foot in the way.

"Nice try. We need your help with something."

"My help? Since when?" Chuck tried to swing the door shut but Sam stood up and turned around. The little girl in his arms stared back at Chuck with as much seriousness as was possible for a child to have, but it was Chuck who backed up a step at what he saw.

"Nyx, say hello to Chuck."

She lifted a hand and wiggled her small fingers at him. "Hi."

"Hu-hu-hi," he stammered. "This-this is."

"She's Castiel and Meg's," Kevin said. "Right, Nyxie?"

"Right!"

He nearly fainted then, slumping weakly back against the door as Sam and Kevin shouldered past him. He thought he caught sight of a pleasant smile, so similar to one he had known before, on the child's face. Her dark hair had spilled out from under a cabby cap and it gave her a more innocent appearance as she looked around with wide-eyed wonder at his rambling old house. Sam carried her into the living room and she waved her hand in the air.

"This place smells funny."

"Smells like a writer with too much time on his hands," Sam muttered as he tossed her bag down and turned with her to face Chuck. The prophet bolted the door shut and angrily gave it a kick before dropping his bills on the table.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Kevin suggested a safe place for Nyx would be a place that no one would expect or know about, besides us."

Turning a fierce look on the young prophet, he continued to scowl. "Kevin's wrong."

The boy was hardly intimidated. "I don't think so. I bet this place is perfect."

"I have work to do!" He stalked towards them and Nyx gave him a puzzled frown.

"What work?" she asked innocently.

"He's a writer, Nyx. He creates things. Stories," Sam explained as he sat down with her on the couch.

"What kind of stories?" Her eyes turned eagerly to him and Chuck found himself confused. Normally kids didn't like him at all and his attitude would put them off.

"Just stories." He gestured at Sam. "About the Winchesters. Why is she here?"

Nyx leaned back and looked up at Sam. "Good stories?"

Sam made a face. "Well…" he started and she nodded, understanding.

"Bad stories."

"Hey, they are okay stories!" Chuck argued, tying his bathrobe off again and storming around for his kitchen. "I need a drink."

Still muttering to himself as he made coffee, he didn't realize he had been followed until he turned and saw that Nyx stood just under him. He leapt back and nearly dropped the canister on top of her head. Ignoring his gestures for her to leave, she planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head back.

"I don't like you."

"I don't like you either. You aren't what I expected," he admitted.

"You hurt people."

There was a glint in her eye, far more mature than her years. Chuck realized that, unlike Sam and Dean, or even Castiel and Meg, she knew exactly who and what he was. Which meant she might realize his role in her young life.

"I don't mean to. It happens."

Sam was calling her name but Nyx moved fast towards the prophet. With a solid whack, she kicked Chuck in the shin. The attack made him howl and grab at the injured leg and she glared all the harder at him. She looked so fierce that he could barely manage to think of what to say.

"What did you do that for?!"

"You can't hurt my friends!" she warned and then stormed off, leaving a bewildered God behind her. The small bruise forming on his leg wouldn't go away no matter how he ran his hand over his leg.

"Okay, you are definitely not what I expected," he whispered, nursing his bruise.

"Oh, please, Chuck. Did you expect her to be?"

The eerily dry voice was amused, as if just being here was a great joke. The sound of it made Chuck close his eyes and pray that this was a dream.

But when his eyes opened again, Death sat at his kitchen table across from him.

"Here we are again, Chuck. So tell me." Death's grin was ghoulish. "Did you learn anything from the last time or will this be a repeat of past failures?"

* * *

Eve watched her creatures trying hard to find their new balance, the ability to move with more than a few jerky motions of legs seeming to be beyond them. It was frustrating. Before her very power had been split down the middle, before she had _lost him_ , everything had been so easy. Creation had been simplistic and beautiful.

Now all she wanted to do was rip them all apart, like dolls, and then throw them back together to see what came out.

That she had lost her mind was something the monster didn't think of, in the way of true insanity. To her, she only saw her imperfect children and the illness of this world, the weakness on them.

She had sent the last of her ruined children to help the demonic freak but when they returned they would be changed as well. There was no room for any more imperfection. The demons would fall into line or they would be consumed just as easily as the others had.

So lost in what she was doing, Eve didn't hear the first warning of a monster's howls. Or even the second and third. The desperation was something she missed as she debated on what to do next. It took a loud bang outside the building, one that rattled the windows and doors, to make her take notice. Abandoned or not, someone was outside waiting for them.

She chewed on her lower lip with a sharp canine to resist the urge to bite into her youngest child but the need to act, to fight, to feed, was so strong.

She could smell the humans outside.

She could smell the sulphur of a demon and the Grace of an angel.

She could smell _blood._

It only made her hungrier than she had been in a very long time.


	13. Levee (When Angels War)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dean's plan in action, the hunters work together to destroy Eve's Nest. But Dean's plans go slowly awry as it becomes clear that Eve's instability is tearing her and her monstrous children apart. Castiel and Meg continue their fight alongside the hunters, with Meg's inability to work with the new hunters forcing them to change tactics. At Chuck's house, the most unusual moment in the writer's existence arrives.

_Summary: With Dean's plan in action, the hunters work together to destroy Eve's Nest. But Dean's plans go slowly awry as it becomes clear that Eve's instability is tearing her and her monstrous children apart. Castiel and Meg continue their fight alongside the hunters, with Meg's inability to work with the new hunters forcing them to change tactics. At Chuck's house, the most unusual moment in the writer's existence arrives._

* * *

* * *

**Part 13: Levee (When Angels War)**

Sam wasn't sure how things could get much worse. Dean wasn't picking up his phone, Nyx was complaining about feeling sick, and Kevin was looking more sullen than before. Still, Sam was trying to have some sort of hope that once he left them there, and rejoined Dean, things would fix themselves back to some form of normal.

Or whatever was normal for them.

Even when he heard Chuck's startled yelp in the kitchen, he didn't worry too much about what was happening in there. Part of the reason they had come to this old house was because almost no one knew of Chuck's existence anymore, let alone where he lived, and Nyx and Kevin would be safe because of that.

Taking his time, Sam looked over the study, with its nearly bare shelves and solitary laptop on the old desk. There was a stack of pages there, all neatly typed and in order, and he knew he should go and see what Chuck had written this time. But Chuck yelped and swore loudly, and he gave up on checking the possible new story. It could probably wait.

When he came into the kitchen to see Chuck staring wide-eyed in his direction, Sam frowned and propped the door open with a chair. "What's wrong? Find a rat in your coffee or something?" he asked. The horror on Chuck's face worried him enough that he tried to smile to calm him down.

"Not quite." It wasn't the prophet who answered him. The voice, dry and bored, came from behind him and he stopped moving when he recognized it. No one forgot that voice. Sam whirled to face the thin, pasty white man with black eyes.

"Sam Winchester. Always a pleasure but unfortunately, you're not needed at this moment. Only a select few can be privy to what is to happen," Death apologized, almost sincere this time. Sam saw the flash of a ghastly smile but didn't move fast enough to dodge the hand that suddenly touched between his eyes. Without a sound, he dropped into the chair, sagging into an ungainly tangle of limbs.

From the hall, Nyx cried out and ran for him, little feet catching in the carpet and sending her spiralling to the ground at his feet. Immediately, a bony hand caught her by her hand and hauled her up roughly. Nyx struggled and Death held on, patiently waiting for her to stop.

"Now, now. Don't make a fuss." Death watched her little face scrunch up with the threat of tears. "And no crying."

He let her go and turned to face Kevin, who was already wielding a book like a weapon at him. Behind him, Chuck's eyes were wide and when he gulped the sound was loud. "Hello, brother."

"Oh hell, not again," Chuck whispered and his eyes rolled up as he dropped down into another chair in a faint. Sighing, Death looked down at Nyx and she looked up at him, still holding his hand. He covered his surprise with the closest thing he had to a friendly smile. It still came out cold and cruel, but it didn't seem to frighten her.

"Wake him up, will you?"

"How?"

"You know how." He nudged her towards Chuck and she began to poke at his side angrily, causing him to grunt and groan. Behind her, Kevin lowered his book and Death gestured for him to come in. "You might as well stay, prophet. Things like this happen very rarely."

"What does?"

"When a Creator meets his creation and finds something more than he expected." Death jabbed his cane hard into the semi-conscious Chuck's thigh and it made the scruffy man howl, launching upwards at the pain. Nyx narrowly dodged his flailing arms and hid behind Kevin as Chuck got to his feet. Blindly he swung the closest object, a frying pan, at Death. The entity parried it with his cane before he began to smack Chuck repeatedly on the forehead until he backed away, holding the frying pan out as if it could magically keep him safe.

"You stay the hell away from me!"

"You can't honestly tell me you've forgotten everything, Chuck. I won't believe you this time."

Eyes darting nervously to the side, Chuck wiggled the pan at Death. "I am certifiable."

"Likely." Death flicked the pan out of his way. "And if you don't behave yourself, I will serve to remind you fully who you are. I'm sure you remember how that felt last time. It will hurt and this time I won't be so pleasant about it." Side-eyeing Chuck, as if expecting him to run, Death turned to look around the room as if deciding whether it was suitable or not. Behind them all, Nyx was poking Sam in the side, trying to wake him up as she murmured his name over and over again. Death gave his cane a hard tap on the floor and she jumped, leaving the big man alone.

"Chuck, do something useful with that frying pan and make her something to eat."

The writer looked ruffled but he nodded in a distracted way. "Right, yeah. Food."

Kevin stared, puzzled by the interaction, but Death gave him a look that meant business. Nervously, he turned around to face Nyx. "Come on, Sam will be fine. You need to rest."

"My tummy hurts," she whispered.

"You need to eat so we'll get food into you. If Chuck is any good with the frying pan," he tried. She looked about to argue but he lifted her up and set her on the chair beside him, almost possessively keeping her away from Death. But the thin man merely smiled and moved to sit close to Nyx as well.

He patted Nyx's head as she stared up at him, as if intrigued by what she saw under the surface. "The reason why she is feeling so ill is because the state of this world now affects her. Her parents, her friends, her families. All of it." His eyes turned directly on Chuck. "The way it should have affected you."

Chuck made a simpering sound as he cracked eggs in the pan. "You don't even realize what you're suggesting about me. About her."

"I don't think you remember why you did what you did."

"It was just to screw Sheol over. Worked too." His look turned cagey, as if he was afraid of saying too much. "I'm good at that."

"A little too good, if you ask me."

"I don't get it though," Kevin said and both of them turned to face him. "Everything that has happened in the past three years. The world nearly fell apart. The demons getting control, the angels falling, Metatron, Sam and Dean's injuries, even my mom. Where were you?"

Chuck turned away and out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Nyx. She seemed curious enough, but there was something tired about her. As if just keeping her little body upright was an effort that was taking everything out of her. Flipping the eggs in the pan and scrambling them around, Chuck glanced over at Kevin.

"Here's the deal. You eat then maybe we can talk."

"Eat?" Kevin's mouth tightened. "You want me to eat in a time like this?"

Death crossed his legs. "I quite like this plan."

Chuck spun and shook a spatula at him. "Nothing for you. You don't even need food."

"No, but I quite enjoy it. It is all in textures on the tongue, really." Death looked down at Nyx. "You see, girl, once you reach my age very little surprises or interests you."

Nyx frowned at him in confusion and then looked back up at Kevin. Death watched the way the prophet moved his chair closer to her, as if to protect her from Chuck's irritability. Kevin even tried to make her smile by handing her the stuffed unicorn, whispering to her a joke that finally made her relax, and Death glanced back at Chuck to see him watching as well. The man who had been God went back to work to avoid the look in those dark pitiless eyes.

* * *

The abandoned section of town, with several empty buildings long since emptied out by a contamination quarantine, had been the perfect place for Eve's slow construction of a massive nest. A place to protect her renewed attempts at far more perfect creatures. What remained of anyone squatting in the buildings surrounding the centre of town had been caught and made into food or new carriers. The crawl of fever that had been spread by Eve and her chosen few was now acting as a call to her children, so that all monsters in the nearest vicinity were slowly and steadily crawling towards the town like animals migrating. Their blood changed the closer they came, sung to them that they needed to find the mother, and those who came closer to her felt the change wrench on their insides furiously. It continued to build in them, a compulsion leading them back to defend the Mother, and few were even trying to resist it.

It had made the monsters surrounding the countryside easy to track and pen in, the change in them making them almost timid. No hunter had figured out the numbers but the infection had spread only so far, and the further away from the town and Eve's pathway the monsters were, the fewer that were affected. The infected were on the move but the others simply laid low to avoid it all. Focussing on the monsters who showed the signs of disease, the hunters Dean had set up on the South merely formed a perimeter and began to push them back.

It was a slow process. As they neared the town, the monsters broke into wild runs to try to get away, some already half-crazed by the disease that went through them, and the hunters kept close, using just the threat of their presence to push on them. Monsters of every kind ran together, losing their identity as they seemed to meld into the mindset of a pack; all of them ran from the hunters as if they were the most terrifying things they had seen in their strange existence.

* * *

In the eastern group, Meg had kept back further to watch, and she knew that something was wrong by how easy this seemed.

When she texted that to Dean, he stared at the message for a long time. Agreeing with the demon was enough to convince him that he maybe had lost his mind. Stepping out from the Impala, he killed the engine and turned to look around the roadway. Monsters were coming from every direction, barely seeming to notice the hunters just at their heels. It was too easy, he thought to himself and he turned around when he heard a gun shot.

One hunter was getting too close to a changed werewolf and she kept shooting at the monster's feet to get him moving. The plan was to cage them near the middle, where lines of salt and oil and explosives would be made ready to set ablaze. They'd burn the Mother out, get the numbers of infected down and hopefully weaken Eve enough she'd have to go into hiding. Dean had ordered everyone to just push on the monsters and not get any closer than they had to. This hunter, apparently, wasn't taking his orders seriously as she closed in on the werewolf that was wriggling on the ground. She threatened it with another close shot and had to stop to reload again.

When the werewolf suddenly stopped writhing, stopped whimpering like a caged pathetic thing, it turned on her. Leaping to its feet, it roared and charged at her. The hunter screamed and dropped her own gun, scrambling as she was sent sprawling onto her back by the swipe of a massive paw. Its head bent down in an arch and flashing fangs buried in her arm until the muscle was torn. Her scream became more desperate as its teeth burrowed deep into her flesh and began to pull her arm, gouges appearing as it tried to tear it from the socket.

Running up from behind, Dean dropped his shotgun and unholstered his pistol as he went to a knee to aim. Another hunter raced forward to help but Dean paid him no attention, the first bullet striking the werewolf in the shoulder. The monster didn't let go, instead tearing at the woman's arm with its paws while it sank its teeth into her other arm. The hunter running for the woman slid under the heaving bodies and grabbed her by the leg, yanking her out of the way as the werewolf turned on Dean. Mid-roar, it went down with another well-aimed shot, screaming as the silver bullet struck its heart. Howling in harmony to the death sound, the pack that had been following it took off at a run for the distant buildings without it.

Dean tried hard to get his heart back under control as he crawled on hands and knees over to the injured woman. The big man who had grabbed her free was trying to put a gauze wrap around her shoulder, and when he turned the arm up to look, Dean saw that the ruined limb was hanging by only pieces of muscle and broken bone.

"You might have to lose the arm," the hunter told the woman and she nodded shakily, whimpering as he tried to stop the bleeding. But when he and Dean saw the massive bite mark in her other forearm, they paused at the sight of the black veins standing up, rising through the skin and already pulsing.

"Cas!" he shouted. Instantly, he felt his presence beside him and he pointed at the bite mark, though the angel's first glance was at her ruined arm. "She's been bit."

Castiel ignored the way the woman flinched back from him and grasped her by the bitten arm. The heat of her skin was already incredible and he wrenched hard to expose her veins, not noticing how she cried out.

"Can the fever spread to humans?" Dean asked and Castiel hushed the woman as she cried out.

"It never has before. But Eve's mostly been trying to infect demons. There's no reason why it couldn't hurt humans as well." He let her go but all of them could see it flushing up her body, turning her light brown skin almost grey. Only Castiel could see the internal change that was happening now.

"Cut it off, please cut it off. Cut them both off if you have to. I don't want to be one of those things. Please!" the woman begged and Dean hesitated, looking up at Castiel. The angel looked at the wound before he reached out to touch her forehead. The flicker that went through her sent her to the ground in a heap and they watched the blackness in her skin slowly retreat to leave the skin around the wounds brown again.

"Did it work?" the hunter asked.

"I don't know," Castiel answered honestly. "I've never had to heal an infected human before. There are infected demons here as well, following the monsters. It's making them dangerous to cage. It won't help if they start infecting your hunters."

"Get the word out to the other hunters," Dean ordered Castiel and the hunter. "Make sure no one is bit. If they do, Cas, you need to get to them. Quarantine the sick, take care of it any way people can. If we have to, we'll start bulking up on clothing to prevent the bites."

"You have nearly one hundred hunters and one of me," the angel said as the other hunter sprinted off to try to get the message out using the CB. "I can't be everywhere, Dean, and I'm not sure my power will truly heal them. That woman could still change."

"Well, try. We need to get Eve penned in and we need the infected monsters kept down. That's your job and Meg's."

The look in those blue eyes was wary but agreeable. "I'll do my best."

"Yeah, sure." Dean whirled and shot off a round, catching a monster that had been sneaking up on him in its chest. It was sent to its knees howling, back arched to the point of breaking, and as one the pack it had run with turned on it. The hunters following backed off, looking at Dean nervously, and he waved his hand as they watched the monsters tear into the injured creature, ignoring its shrieks of pain as the flesh and entrails were ripped out.

Dean hadn't seen anything like it in years. Beside him, Castiel watched in fascination as they devoured their own with a hunger of starving wolves. Whatever the monsters and demons had transformed into, it had driven them to the point that few of them would come back from. An actual insanity and wildness seemed to be implanted in them now. Reaching out, he lifted his hand as if to burn them but Dean put a restraining palm on his wrist.

"Leave it. We can push them back as we go. We get them in the way we talked about, burn them out and take care of this problem." At Castiel's glance, he shrugged. "If they can kill each other, makes less work for us."

"I suppose," Castiel said but he sounded unconvinced by Dean's logic.

"We'll need to regroup," said the hunter with the CB. "Make sure everyone knows the plan and what's happening."

"Yeah," Dean muttered and he shook himself. "Yeah, right. Start the fire chain in the south, burn them out and keep it going to the north in a circle around the town. Get Garth and his guys to meet us closer to the edge of town. We'll shack up in one of those empty houses and figure out what to do."

The burly old man nodded and spoke in the CB, but Dean was already moving back to the angel. Castiel was staring at the cannibalizing monsters again. "Cas, what do you think?"

"We'll be closed in. If Eve is ready for us, we'll be surrounded at the outskirts. The number of monsters she has in there, that I've counted, are well over five hundred infected. It will be dangerous." His blue eyes went to Dean's. "Is this going to be worth it?"

"She won't see this coming. Not a direct attack anyway." Castiel's eyes flicked over his head and he squinted when he spotted something. "Where's Meg?"

"Eastern group, like I told her to."

"Then why is there a flare going up asking for help?" Castiel asked, his voice calm but when he looked at Dean his agitation was clear. Dean went to protest but the angel's hand grasped him by the shoulder and moved them faster than he could utter a word. Ironically, they landed in the middle of fight and Dean ducked to avoid a vetala throwing a punch. It screeched, reaching for him again, but Castiel caught it by its throat and threw it back.

"About time someone came to help!" Jan, a young hunter whose voice shook with fear, was fighting off another vetala, this one soaked in black venom and shrieking. He slammed a silver knife into its chest and twisted hard, while a hunter on the other side chopped off the vetala's head. Jan heaved for breath as he watched the body fall. "Some help that woman you sent us with was."

"Where is she? I told her to stay with you!" Dean snapped as he jabbed his own silver-tipped knife in a vetala's stomach and sliced up, until he heard the tearing tissue and the shrieking stop. Castiel was looking around, nonchalantly fighting when the others were still struggling. As he threw another vetala back, he shook his head, appearing more perplexed than angry.

Another young hunter turned and shot his friend a sarcastic look. "Yeah, Jan, where is she?"

The boy flushed. "I told her I could teach her a thing or two about hunting. She got all pissy, called me a kid and we fought."

"She kicked his ass without him landing a punch," said the other hunter helpfully."

"Shut the hell up!" Jan shouted and the boys all started chuckling. "I nearly thought she was gonna kill me! Then she stormed off muttering about stupid hunters and those vetalas appeared."

Castiel's eyes went to Dean and the older hunter went flushed because he could read the 'I told you so' in his smirk. The angel had warned him that Meg wouldn't like hanging around the youngest hunters. "Yeah, yeah, don't look so smug, Cas."

They heard more shrieking nearby and the hunters fell into arguing once again about who was the bigger idiot. Ignoring them, Castiel took in a deep breath and then disappeared.

* * *

Finally free of the hunters she'd come so close to killing, Meg walked behind the buildings along the main strip. The hunters were further back, chasing the monsters into the town to trap them from the southern and eastern sides of the town, but the demon ignored the sounds of the penning. Getting into town was easy to do once she was on her own and it gave Meg time to try to form some idea of a battle plan.

Except the town itself could be used as a trap by the monsters and she didn't like going in so blind. Meg savagely kicked an abandoned trashcan to the side and looked around, extending her power to try to see if she could feel something else. Nothing she saw made much sense. Unless the monsters were already all holed up inside, there was no signs of actual life within the streets. Whatever squatters that had been in the nearly abandoned town were likely monster food now, and even stretching out what senses she had around here found nothing. The monsters should have been streaming in, crowding the streets and buildings, but she only saw one or two.

_Where were they hiding?_

The closer she came to the centre of town, the more aware Meg became that something was blocking her, keeping her from even teleporting around like she could have before, and she knew what it was. Eve knew that they were coming and she was gathering her power.

Meg slid her hand down her side and palmed the weapon tucked in her belt. Castiel had given her another angel sword, out of his seemingly endless supply, and the warm weight of it felt good in her hand, reassuring her that she could handle what she needed to do.

But the closer she drew to the end of the building, the louder the noises became and the slower she began to walk. Growls, whimpers, whispers, all of it melding and overlapping so she wasn't sure what it was she was hearing. It could be a spell for all she knew.

Meg clicked her tongue and slowed down more, so that each footfall no longer carried a sound and even her clothing was only a whisper of movement. Something darted across the street, dragging a broken leg behind itself. It hit a front window hard as it staggered and tried to find its balance. Meg watched the way the strange monster ran towards the centre before she sighed and walked a few more steps. Something ran across the street again and she stopped in the shadows before she could be seen.

Pressing back against the wall, Meg let her one hand rest on her belly while the other lifted the angel sword up, ready to do damage as she considered her options. Getting away from the hunters had been easy — most weren't too bright in her opinion —and getting into town was simpler still with the way the monsters were distracted and running for safety. What the hunters were good at, in this sort of mass group, was causing confusion, causing chaos. It let her slip in unnoticed, little more than a little dark shadow plying a knife.

The growling and shouting was getting louder from the centre of town and Meg leaned out a little to try to see what was there. A hand suddenly gripped her shoulder and yanked her around, so suddenly that she raised the sword on instinct and had her wrist shoved back into the wall. She caught a glimpse of tan and opened her mouth to curse but the hand went over her mouth quickly.

Castiel didn't speak, just gave her a look that warned her to keep her voice down. As the noise in the centre grew louder, he let her go, his hand going down her neck while the rest of him kept her pressed into the wall.

"You weren't where you were supposed to be," he said, so low she had to strain to hear him under the noise. Meg grinned, her teeth flashing in a savage expression, and he finally looked down at her.

"Oh, Clarence, worried about little old me?" When he didn't say anything, she tilted her head back and gave him a coy flutter of her eyelashes. "What? You wanted to kiss me for luck?"

Ignoring her flirting, Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned out to look. "There's at least two hundred of them there."

Annoyed at his cluelessness, Meg sighed and leaned out with him to see for herself. "Maybe more." She started to count and gave up quickly. "Some might be in the buildings."

Pulling his head back, he looked at her profile for a long few seconds before speaking, "I asked you to help the hunters."

"Well, I didn't kill them when they pissed me off and I figured that was A plus for me, Castiel," she drawled in a bored voice, trying to count again. She noticed a few standing on the roofs, acting as sentries. "You know me, I work better on my own."

"I know." He heard a snarl of something moving close by and chanced looking out. "It doesn't mean I have to like it." When he pulled back to look at her again, Meg was staring at him. "Don't look at me like that," he muttered uncomfortably.

"Oh, feathers, sometimes I wonder about you," Meg muttered but for once there was no sense of distaste or sarcasm in her voice. It unnerved Castiel enough that she was giving him a look similar to one he had seen on Sam or Dean when he had first met them, a look that seemed as if she had never seen him like this before. Which was absurd; Meg knew him, had known him maybe better than most ever would.

He was so caught up in staring back at her that the way the monsters began to howl startled him. He felt her fingers dig into his coat sleeve as he drew closer against her to look around the corner. The first thing that struck him was the heat that was pulsing from the massive group, driving against him so his hair lifted and he felt the scalding blaze of it, as if standing too close to a fire.

Eve stood in the centre of her children, touching them gently. The ground looked to be heaving; twisting bodies and blood formed a living carpet of flesh and bone. Vetala, Arachne, Wendigo, Rugarus, and more all crouched below her. Monsters that ordinarily would have fought amongst each other now grovelled at her feet. It would have been goddess-like if it hadn't been for the way her decaying vessel could barely contain her now. She looked like nothing more than rotting corpse. Whatever she was bound to was falling apart so quickly that her power could no longer repair the damage. Castiel watched a creature move, black-eyed and monstrous. It bowed, massive arms offering a vampire to her, and the Mother crouched towards the injured vampire. She crooned to it and her fingers slid deep into the gaping wound on its throat.

Suddenly aware of Meg's breathing against his collarbone, Castiel slid his hand down her side to where the angel sword rested limply in her hand. The demon murmured something and he turned his head from her, not sure why the energy throbbing in the centre ring was affecting them so his pulsing heartbeat echoed Meg's own rhythm. Fingers wrapping around hers, he kept his eyes on Eve as the Mother's arm turned bright orange and charred black, as if she was smouldering from the inside out. A wave of heat struck out, and the monsters flattened to the ground in whimpering piles as Eve stood again, her white dress swirling around her.

"They cannot get to me. That is your mission, to prove your devotion to me. I still have some children to protect, until they can move. Kill them all," Eve was ordering. Castiel felt Meg lean into him to look, her arm slipping up around his shoulders to balance, and the tight coils of tension between them seemed to throb warmer. Neither of them was sure what it was but he managed with some effort to focus on Eve again.

It was hard when suddenly he had the urge to touch Meg's skin to see if it was as warm as his.

"She's radiating natural power," the demon muttered and he lifted his head to stare at her curiously, feeling her lips brush against his cheek. "Like what the fairies use, Cas. Don't worry your pretty face about what it is bothering you. Remember what we're here for."

_Right. Death and mayhem. They were here to kill._

He tore his eyes away from Meg and realized that all of the monsters had stopped their strange grumbling and growling. Even those who still remained more human than beast had turned, looking very alert. That they were all looking at where the angel and demon were sunk in slowly to both of them.

"Damn. Get us out of here," Meg whispered. Castiel reached for her hand, intent on flying off, but nothing came to him. She looked up at him. "Uh, Clarence, we're still here."

"It's Eve's power. I can't fly us out." He nearly groaned in defeat. Meg's fingers tightened into a death grip and she started to back away slowly.

"Come on. Slow and quiet." He followed her lead, backing away, and his fingers tightened around hers. They were past a trashcan when they heard the sound of scuttling movement and Meg looked up to see something that looked like an Arachne crossed with a bow-legged dog crawling up the walls of the pharmacy. Castiel followed her gaze and his hand went to her elbow. Meg looked up at him and she turned the blade in her hand.

"Run."

Moving together, they jumped into a sprint, Meg close on Castiel's heels as they ran down the back of the buildings. Behind them, something began to bay. Not quite as bone-chilling as a hellhound but more guttural and feral. The heavy thud-thud of something chasing them made them run faster and harder, depending on demonic and angelic reserves of strength to run so fast for so long. Stymied by Eve's overwhelming power, Castiel concentrated on getting to the relative protection of the outskirts where he could see the line of cars.

When Meg turned mid-stride and stuttered to a stop, it forced him to stop as well.

The line of monsters that had been chasing them were fanning outward, and Meg pushed Castiel backwards, over black lines in the earth that smelled like oil. Castiel's eyes darted left and then right, trying to see where it began and where it was going. The monsters that had been running them down continued to charge forward but with Meg not moving, Castiel wasn't about to leave her.

"Get down!" Dean shouted from the distance and instinctively Castiel ducked, dragging Meg down with him. Something hot shot by him and a hunter's crossbow bolt struck the black line. The fire roared and hissed, travelling fast to strike a line of barrels camouflaged under an abandoned truck. The monsters who had come closer shrieked and fell back as a wall of flame from the planted dynamite exploded and the angel turned, using his coat to shield Meg as the barrels exploded within the truck, sending glass shards and silver beads into the air with a snarl. They embedded in his hands and he felt the heat singing the hem of his coat.

The rushing roar of fire slowly died and Castiel felt her fingers digging into his arms. He inhaled deeply, Meg's scent of sulphur and soap overwhelming the stench of oil and burning flesh. Warily, he looked down at her and saw the cuts already healing on her face. When he managed to pull himself up, the infected monsters had backed away and were retreating into the depths of the town once again.

Propping herself up on an elbow, Meg pushed her hair out of her eyes and realized that the willowy brunette, more than a mile away, was staring at her and Castiel. It sent an icy feeling up her spine for some reason and then Eve was gone, leaving Meg with Castiel hovering over her, one leg raised and caging her beneath him.

"I thought the kids would be a problem but no. Leave it to you two to not follow orders," Dean said as he closed in on them at a fast but limping walk. Castiel said nothing, shaking glass out of his hair, and Meg sighed, putting her head back on the ground as she picked a shard of metal out of her shoulder. Dean watched for a moment before he shook his head and gave them both another scolding look. "Come on. That'll keep them back for a while."

* * *

With dirty plates and pans all around, Chuck's kitchen looked more domestic than the usual, and that surliness the writer had was almost gone. Once he was satisfied that he was safe, that no one was about to attack him with questions he didn't want to answer, things had taken a strange turn for the friendly. With Death doing little more than watching them, Kevin found Chuck's awkward fumbling at being sociable somehow more disturbing than if he had been rude. Food was food though and it was easier to focus once he downed strong coffee and the eggs. There was little else to do but talk to Chuck; Nyx mostly picked at her food and Sam remained unconscious on a chair, barely breathing.

While swallowing the last of his coffee, Kevin eyed the way the big man was so awkwardly posed. Sam's neck was cricked to a bad angle and he was slowly sliding out of his chair now.

"Is he going to be okay?"

Death turned his attention from watching Nyx and Chuck to the Winchester. "Oh yes. Eventually. Maybe not how you all originally planned but he will be better."

Right. Trust Death to give an answer that wasn't really an answer.

"He's gonna get cramped like that and hurt himself. We should move him," Kevin said, setting the cup down and standing. When Chuck remained sitting, he cleared his throat and impatiently stared down at the other man. "We."

"Oh sure, right." Still acting like a pleasant host, Chuck wiped his hands on his bathrobe and picked up one of Sam's arm. Kevin wasn't sure if his apparent struggles were for show or not as they tried to pick Sam up between them. Chuck grunted and groaned as if this was the most work he had done in months.

"Couldn't have brought the smaller Winchester, huh?"

Kevin didn't say a word as he picked up Sam's legs and they began to walk together, carrying Sam in an awkward sling-hold to the living room. Death watched them go and heard a faint hiccup that drew his attention to the little girl sitting next to him. With egg on her chin and ketchup staining her hands, Nyx looked like a simple human child, merely pleased to be alive and fed. She hardly looked like the sort to inspire any ideas about what she was. But underneath the surface, that was what the entity needed to see. And what he saw made him smile.

"You are growing up."

She frowned. "I know you."

"Yes, you do." He reached out and tapped her nose. "Because when you were born, as all things are, I was there to decide if you lived or died."

Her eyes widened in understanding. "I wanna go home."

"Not yet. We're going to find out exactly what Chuck has planned. Because I think he went in over his head this time." Death tapped his cane on the ground. Like Castiel and Meg, he spoke to her as an adult and had no doubt she understood him perfectly when she put her mind to it. When Nyx nodded, he smiled with satisfaction. "It is so interesting to meet you again, Nyx."

Kevin heard him as he came back into the room and asked, "Why?"

"Because seeing this manifestation of new creation, seeing it in its rawest form… is incredible. Something I've not seen in eons. It would be like you seeing a tablet in human form, I suppose, considering your own interest."

Nyx's blue eyes blinked twice, as if absorbing what he said, and Kevin looked equally as bewildered. Giving them a patronizingly kind smile, knowing Kevin maybe didn't understand quite what he meant, Death stood up and held out his hand for Nyx. Without the hesitation of before, she slipped her tiny hand into his, holding a sticky Clarence in the other hand. He led them to the study where Chuck was fumbling with notes now. Kevin slid the door shut behind him before he took a seat, and Nyx climbed onto the worn old armchair across from him. She pressed into the deep flannel, cuddling her unicorn and watching them all curiously.

Chuck glanced at Death when he set his black bag down. "Why did you bring that?"

The look Death shot the bag was assessing. "I'll need it."

"Suit yourself. Scare the kids for all I care," Chuck said as he began tapping into his laptop, muttering about how things could fall apart so fast without him.

"So. Answer young Tran's questions about the hows and whys. I'm only here for how entertaining this story should be; I can't wait to see what you make up. " Death took a seat on the windowsill. "It should be a classic for the ages."

"You let people die," Kevin interrupted before Chuck could snap back at his 'brother'.

"I did what I had to do. The story has to go on and sometimes there is… well, there is collateral."

"Collateral!" Kevin swore under his breath, mindful of Nyx.

"You want another way of putting it? They were part of something bigger than they realized!"

"These are people! Living, breathing people!"

"And I created them!"

Nyx was staring at them, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to keep up while they shouted.

"Perhaps you need to be less obtuse," Death began.

"It's how it was meant to be, remember?" Chuck slammed the laptop shut with a bang, causing Kevin to jump though Death's expression never changed as he took several threatening strides towards them. "You were in charge of death, I was in charge of life. That's my duty, isn't?" Chuck sneered at him and threw a thick pile of notes about _Supernatural_ on his desk. "To create."

"So it was," Death allowed. Obviously furious, Chuck reached into his cabinet and grabbed a bottle. Muttering to himself, he poured half a glass of Scotch and then lifted it in mock salute.

"That's what I do. Create. Even you and Sheol didn't have the ability to wield the power I held. Who knows what she is even doing when locked up in her proverbial tower. I don't really care. I did my job." Gulping down the liquor, he gestured around the room. "Hell, I'm **great** at creating." He hiccuped and pointed at Nyx. "Created her didn't I?"

For such a small child, the anger in her glare was surprising.

"I think you can't take all the credit for that, Chuck." Death leaned back. "Not in the end."

"I created ways of challenging my creations, of making them better than what they were. Of…"

Kevin drew his own conclusions fast. "Wait, you also helped Eve in the beginning before you locked her away." He paused, seeing Chuck's eyes dart away. "Did you… you…" The horror on Kevin's face turned to fury. "You helped Purgatory 'resurrect' her, let her get out, and you didn't stop any of this. You helped her create these monster demons, or at least you helped her find a way of doing it. Why would you do that?"

"Why not?" Chuck countered. "It's my job. Creating." His eyes were bleak as he stared at Death instead of the prophet. "So my brother keeps reminding me. So my sister enjoyed telling me how I failed three years ago, when she nearly won that little game between us."

"So what, you're punishing everyone else just because…?" Kevin was astonished by that cruelty.

"If it wasn't abundantly clear before, it is now." Death tapped his cane again. "He doesn't want to be the only one to wallow in misery and loneliness."

Chuck glared at him.

"When there is no where else to turn, to bring about something to keep him interested, he made something up. So he sets loose some new form of creature, some new beast capable of something devastating, just to see what happens." Death looked at Nyx who was staring up at him wide-eyed. "No, no. Not you, my dear. I mean the Mother and her monsters."

"I could have done a lot worse. Could've given them no chance of an 'out' or surviving if they don't win." With a wave of his hand, Chuck moved back to the bottle on his desk. "At least I gave them that."

There was no mistaking that the sarcasm in Death had slowly turned to loathing. "Oh yes. You are the sheer epitome of mercy."

"I thought God loved all his creations," Kevin said.

There was a shattering sound as Chuck's grip destroyed the glass in his hand. Nyx was staring at the back of his head with rapt attention, more than she had even paid Death at any point. His head bowed as he looked at his bloody hand and the glass pieces littering his floor, his shoulders shaking as he took in a deep breath.

"I do," he whispered. "But none of you make it very easy to have hope in you sometimes."

When Chuck turned around, his eyes were bleak with frustration and grief. His eyes went to Nyx. "I had hoped that when there was time…" He stopped himself, stuttering to a halt as if he realized what he was about to say. "Nevermind."

Death adjusted his seat and leaned over to Nyx. "Trust me, my dear, this is not the worst it gets."

She nodded. "Might be bad."

"It might be, yes." Death eyed Chuck. "Perhaps it is almost time you admit your folly."

"Admit what? That I should have said I was sorry, that I should have offered my life to Sheol because of what I created? Because of how one little mis-" He glanced at the little girl again and thought twice about calling her a mistake. "How one new life managed to do more than Sheol thought possible to her own existence? To the angels and demons themselves?"

"Would have been a start. You know she would have never killed you. Just made you suffer a little for it." Death looked agitated for once. "Our sister loved all her family but it was not easy to do when she became angry with us."

Kevin caught Chuck looking at Nyx. "What does that have to do with Nyx?"

"Everything. She was a new creation and our kind have laws about new creation. And what it means."

Chuck gave Death a disgusted look. "And you call me cryptic."

The look he was given in return was smug. "I'm telling them everything he needs to know. It is not my fault he won't be able to catch up."

"Whatever you did, whatever you let happen," Kevin said, standing up and approaching Chuck, "people still died, the monsters escaped…"

"People die everyday, Kevin," Chuck snapped. "Try not to get hung up on the concept. It happens."

"My mother died!" With no warning, the smaller man lashed out and punched his fist into Chuck's jaw, sending him down with a crack. Chuck fell against the table and behind Kevin, Nyx put her hands over her mouth in shock. Death, on the other hand, smirked and looked up at the ceiling. "You walked away from so much and just because…. because…. Just because!"

Cradling his jaw with one hand, Chuck pushed up against the sofa beside Nyx. "I had my reasons, my plans. And most have turned out the way they should."

"You played with lives." Kevin turned to Death with an equally furious eye. "And you? This is funny to you!"

"Exceedingly."

Kevin could only stare at the entity, knowing he should be afraid of him but suddenly not caring. Throwing his hands in the air, he stalked down the hall and out the back door, slamming it hard behind himself.

"Well, that was interesting." Crossing his ankles, Death leaned forward on his cane. As insulted as he could be, his attention was for Chuck. "Do you see what happens, brother?"

Still nursing his jaw, Chuck glared at him.

"What happens when you let your children run wild? They lose faith in you." Standing up slowly, Death wandered over to Nyx and patted her head. "I shall see you again, my dear."

"Bye bye," Nyx said, wiggling her fingers at him. Death took another glance at Chuck and the massive bruise already forming on his cheek, and he knelt beside the couch, leaning in towards Nyx.

"If you don't mind, he will be unhappy if his face hurts." Death gave a pointed look at Chuck and Nyx frowned.

"Do I have to?" she asked in a soft voice.

"No. But it would be nice." He patted her on her head again and with a tap of his cane on the hardwood he was gone.

Nyx huffed and turned over to face Chuck, who was struggling to work his jaw properly. "Kid packs a mean hook," he said to himself and when Nyx knelt beside him on the couch he turned, surprised. "What're you doing?"

With none of the gentleness she would have shown Sam or her parents, Nyx slapped her hand on his cheek and held it there. Chuck could only stare up at her, aware of a sparkling heat that went through his stomach and settled in his head. The heat suddenly gave way to ice, dousing every nerve into awareness, and the effect was like being woken up from a drugged state.

"Thank you," he whispered, snared by the almost old look in her large eyes. As if she was seeing him clearly for the first time and he was finally seeing her for the first time. Finally, Nyx shrugged and hopped down, leaving him by himself as she went to see where Sam was still sprawled in the living room across the hall. Chuck stared after her and reached up to touch his face, aware of a phantom sensation lingering on his skin that was more familiar than he had thought possible.

* * *

The massive group of hunters laid out what stock and weaponry they had. The Southerners had brought up what explosives they had pilfered from army bases, those from the East had mass amounts of gunshot, and more than a few had silver bullets specifically made for the occasion. Dean hadn't seen a gathering like this in a long time. Some of these people he was sure had never really seen a monster like Eve before; werewolves and vampires were normal for them but give them djinns or arachne and most would be on the run.

The only thing Dean could hope for was that these hunters were good enough to hold it together. The monsters most affected by Eve's fever were corralled in the town for now and it would take inch by inch to destroy them totally.

Dean only hoped that Benny wasn't among them. He wasn't afraid to do what he had to do but that was something he didn't want to even think on again. There were few enough people, human or not, he considered a friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked to where Meg and Castiel were murmuring to one another. Both unhurt, which had caused some looks and was making people whisper that maybe she wasn't human. No one was badly hurt, except for the young woman had her ruined arm barely hanging by a thread of flesh.

Without thinking, Dean glanced at where she was lying in a bed, one hand shaking and her body going a pallid grey. Castiel had healed her the best he could, but the aftereffects of the fever still seemed to be coursing through her. The same way it had with Meg but the demon had been able to fight it. Dean wasn't so sure about a human fighting it off.

"I made some calls," Garth announced as he came into the room, gesturing at the ringleaders of their group. "I'm going to send you all a text message with the location of the safe-houses, in latitude longitude co-ordinates."

"Hell, Garth," said one big man, who spat as he talked. "You couldn't just tell us?"

"Easier this way, Bruce."

Dean said nothing, but began drawing quick lines on the map of the town. "We set up explosives here, here and here, along old sewer lines and where the cement has some deep cracks forming. If we can blow a large hole in the centre of town, we have a chance of running them in there. Lace the barrels in salt and liquified silver. Do some damage."

One woman — Sheila, Dean remembered — cleared her throat. "We're running into trouble. How do we know they are all here?"

Castiel moved a step around Meg. "Garth had the patterns right. She's been calling them to her. Whatever she is infecting them with; she wants all of them to feel it. Maybe getting closer to the source strengthens the change."

Meg muttered something behind him and he nodded. "You can all feel it, can't you? The way you felt the closer you came to the town?" he asked and Dean watched an uncomfortable expression cross most of the hunters' faces. Even he remembered how he had felt when they had pushed them all back towards the town. Hot and flushed, as if the air itself was squeezing around him. "That is her call to them. It is heat and power and blood. It is affecting you too."

"What about you?" Shelia asked curiously and he shook his head.

"At my core, I'm not human enough to fall prey to it. I can feel it but that is all; it won't distract me." On anyone else it would have sounded like boasting but Castiel said it was simple fact. Meg raised her eyebrow at the angel and he pretended not to notice.

"So what do we do about that?"

"We kill them," Dean said, not wanting to get distracted. "If we can get rid of the monsters out there, then we can maybe get her on the run, maybe even powerless if we do this right, and we can have a chance at ending this. Most of those monsters have lost what made them even close to human. We can't let this infection spread out to the coasts. We set the fires, set the explosions, and get in there. We do what we do best. First waves, second waves. It's a blitz attack. It won't be pretty."

An eager group of younger men in the back hooted and began to boisterously shove each other around, as if to hide how they really felt, and Dean noticed how Meg rolled her eyes. Castiel met his gaze next and he nodded to him, watching as Castiel disappeared to layout the start of the explosives. Garth began to talk lowly to the men and women who had assumed some form of control for all the hunters, including the ones in the southern part of the town, and Dean stood silently, staring down at the map.

Meg's appearance beside him wasn't a surprise. Neither was the way she glared at him.

"You'd better know what you're doing, Dean," she threatened and he smirked.

"You can still run away, Meg." Ignoring the looks of the hunters, most who still didn't know what Meg was, he leaned on the table and looked down at her. "Are you a bit more tame than usual and feeling like you won't cut it like you used to?"

"It wasn't an empty threat," Meg said, choosing not to answer the insult. "It was a warning. This plan, this entire thing? Isn't foolproof."

"I know." He propped his leg up on the table and strapped a machete to his calf. "But like I said before, I'd rather go out making a huge dent in Eve's plans than sitting waiting for her to catch me."

Meg's eyes narrowed in speculation. "You think you're going to die, don't you?"

"I think that I'm going to give her a run for her money, Meg. Don't read too much into it."

She sneered. "What? You're saying that you're a deeper well than I thought?"

"Try not to seem shocked that I can plan things. After all," he jostled her with his shoulder, "you didn't win once against us when we were on opposite sides of the fence."

That irked the demon enough. "Maybe you just got lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with how I work." To signal an end to their conversation, he turned his back on her. "Go get your weapons ready and go to the spot I told you to stay at."

He heard her cursing as she went out of the house, slamming doors as she went, and Dean ran his fingers over his stubbled jaw thoughtfully. Beside him, Garth cleared his throat before speaking lowly, "After all that's happened, all she and her kind did, you trust her?"

Dean didn't speak, just nodded, and when Garth looked at him he knew that Dean hadn't heard a word he said.

* * *

All the planning in the world hadn't prepared the hunters for what they were about to do. But any shock, any hesitation, had to be buried down when faced with the horror of it.

It was guerrilla warfare, the only kind any of them could afford, and it was effective. Knowing that the town was empty, its polluted state making it unusable, had only helped Dean give orders to set each of the buildings on fire. Their fastest members, little more than teenagers with a death wish, ran in with blowtorches and oil cans. In charge of them and struggling to keep them focussed, Castiel kept close and helped the hunters find the exposed wires as others painted the walls until they were oil-slick. He paused at a wall of the first outbuilding, listening for any signs of life and never heard more than the soft scuttle of movement.

When the building grew too hot to touch even from the outside, the screams began.

"Finally," he muttered and he dropped the set of lines he'd been holding.

"What… what do we do?" asked a boy just behind him and Castiel turned to see him staring wide-eyed at the monsters trying to claw their way out of the windows. He was ashen and wide-eyed, torch hanging uselessly at his side.

Grabbing the boy by his shoulder, Castiel launched himself across the distance and calculated it perfectly. Any closer and Eve's power would stop him. Any further then there was a chance he wouldn't get to the others in time. The doorways of the second building burst open and, like rats escaping a nest, the monster changelings began to pour out, screeching at the pain. Castiel narrowly dodged one flaming creature and grabbed the next hunter, who was frozen in fear as well. Taking the two boys back, he dropped them beside Garth and then winged off again.

Running faster than the hunters and little more than a slip of a shadow at the corner of their vision, Meg moved in between the chaotic masses of bodies pouring out and into the town. Her focus was totally on what she had to do and she kept her eyes on the ground as she searched for the key lines that had been left by Castiel earlier. Snagging two wires, she ripped the rubber casing apart and bit into the wire to mould them together. Satisfied that the knots would hold, she then sprinted for the next set, still dragging the longest line behind herself. The lines wove around the buildings at the centre of town and needed to be connected to the explosive line about to be driven in.

* * *

Not for the first time, Meg was glad she wasn't on the receiving end of Winchester planning.

Crouching over a set of wire, she bit into the two and twisted the clamps, one leg braced up with the trigger line still wrapped around her ankle. The low snarl behind her didn't phase her. Meg simply continued to twist the clamps, humming low in her throat as she worked. She felt the hair at her nape move just a little, signalling a coming blow, and she leaned dramatically to the side, causing the rugaru behind her to fall face first on the ground before it scrambled up to its knees. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Meg stared as it crouched across from her. Caught somewhere between beast and man, its body had contorted horribly so its face was an open maw that reminded her eerily of a Leviathan.

"She couldn't make you pretty, huh?" Meg drawled. The angel sword was still tucked into her belt but she went for the gun strapped to her leg instead. The bullets were useless but there was the gun powder she could use. She clicked one shell out, rolling it in her palm.

Unsurprisingly, the rugaru sprang for her throat and Meg spun it beneath her. Straddling it, she slammed her hand into its chest and the force of her blow shoved the bullet deep into its heart. The brass embedded deep, and Meg, with the sense of aim a trained torturer had, twisted her fingers just so and the tiny shard metal tore into the heart. Eyes up on the approaching monsters, most charred now, Meg leaned down on its chest, heard its chortling breath as she used her power to ignite the bullet inside of the rugaru, setting its heart on fire from the inside. With a twist of her other hand, she snapped its neck and stood back as the body burned up.

Her grin was wild and joyful as she raced off to finish her job.

* * *

Dean crouched behind the pick up truck slowly rolling its way, barely noticed, up the roadway. The other hunters were leading attacks in, using the smoke and small explosions as cover as they pushed the monsters further back. When the air beside Dean fluttered, he shook his head.

"Your girlfriend does to cause hell, huh?" he asked and he looked over his shoulder at Castiel. The angel was crouched beside him but he looked over the bed of the truck at where Meg was taunting the monsters, leading them in massive circles while the hunters picked them off like snipers.

"She does. To her credit." Castiel paused as Meg spun under a changed female vampire and drove the angel sword deep into her heart. The female went down howling and the demon was off again, hooking up the cords and wires. Castiel looked more impressed than an angel should have at the destruction she was causing. "She is good at it."

"Yeah, I guess." Dean continued to crab walk beside the truck as inside the cab, Garth kept the truck moving slowly, ever so slowly, towards the centre of town, where Eve and most of the monsters were. "You ready to catch her if you have to?"

"Always," Castiel said and Dean groaned.

"You and your sappiness, Cas."

The angel looked confused. "That was 'sappy'? I meant it literally."

Dean rolled his eyes and gestured. "Go help the other hunters. Garth and I got this. Remember. This baby gets in the centre, you get Meg and you blow it up."

Castiel fixed him with a look. "And you?"

"I'll be good. Guaranteed." Dean went to give him a shove when they both heard something crawling on the roof of the pickup. A pair of vetala were clambering on the hood, trying to peer into the darkened windows at Garth. Dean growled and cocked his shot gun. "Shit."

Rising quickly, he let a round explode out that caught the female in her arm. She went flying off and her mate raced for him, fingers digging into the metal so deeply that it crunched. The force of it hitting his chest sent the hunter down to his knees and he covered his head as its fangs extended towards his head. Dean ducked and Castiel rose behind him, slicing his angel sword out. It caught the Vetala on the neck and it crumpled apart before its corpse even hit the ground.

Dean raised his gun in mock salute. "Thanks, Cas." He gestured in the air when he heard the shouting in the distant south of the town. "Go. Garth and I got this."

With a nod, Castiel disappeared to help the other hunters. Dean touched his chest, aware of his banging heart and the pain there from how erratically his heart was skipping now. Every other beat was more painful than the next. His heart felt like it was struggling to establish a rhythm and he leaned against the rolling truck, closing his eyes.

The door popped open and Garth grabbed him by his collar, pulling him onto the floor of the truck cab. Driving using only the mirror downcast and the feel of the road, there wasn't much room beside him. Dean squeezed in but kept his eyes shut, taking in deeper and deeper breaths.

"What's wrong with you?" Garth asked as he slowly let the truck roll a bit further forward.

"Hea-heart." Dean took in a deep, sucking breath and let it out slowly. "My heart's gone bad since the last time I was in the Hundred Mile."

"Jesus." Garth wiped his mouth. "You picked a fine time to lie about your medical conditions, Dean. I didn't even know Winchesters got sick."

"We're just human, Garth," Dean said, finally opening his eyes. Garth went to say something but he glared him into silence before leaning up to look outside the window. He sagged back down with a grunt. "You realize that if we get stuck in there, we might have no other choice than to blow it sky high… us included?"

"Yep." Garth gave him a broad but completely shaky grin. "Livin' the dream, I guess."

"Easy there, Louise, we're not topplin over a cliff yet."

The skinny hunter almost whined aloud. "Ah come on, Dean, why I got to be Susan Sarandon?"

"Because I said so." Dean ducked down as something heavy thumped into the side of the pick-up and set it on a skid. Garth overcorrected and inside the pickup the two men bumped around until the truck righted itself.

"You think we're winning?" Garth asked as Dean kicked the door open and watched the buildings slowly rolling by.

"Garth, you do this as long as I've hunting, you start to realize you don't win." Dean grabbed his shotgun and began to pick off the monsters stupid enough to come close to the window. "You just learn that surviving is all you can hope for."

* * *

Castiel walked amongst the hunters, invisible to them now. They were fighting well, though with the sort of scrappiness that maybe made the trained soldier in him cringe, but they were doing their jobs. It was all Dean had wanted. The slow push back on all sides to get them in one spot, the firefights going on that rivalled any battle scene Castiel had seen before between humans in recent years. It was sloppy and it was bloody, but it was working.

So stuck in awe of their capability for violence, Castiel could only watch. What help he could give them was nothing in comparison to what humans could do when allowed freedom to kill and destroy as freely as the monsters they were fighting.

There was a brush of something passing him, followed by a hint of sulphur in the air, and he reached out blindly, falling out of the illusion as he did so. He spun Meg around in his arms, holding onto the ripped leather jacket, and she gasped before she realized who was holding onto her. Though there was bullets spraying around them and explosions as flames engulfed gas lines and generators, he held her still in the middle of the street. His hair ruffled in the hot blast of an explosion and he watched her dark hair fly before her eyes as her head turned toward him.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low, one hand searching down her back for any marks or tears.

"I'm fine, Castiel." Her skin was flushed with exertion and excitement, and Castiel watched her head turn to watch as two hunters plunged sabres into a changed werewolf. Her lips were full and half-parted, and there were bruises lining the pale skin up her cheek with a cut under one eye. Even a sleeve was ripped to shreds to her shoulder, revealing a gouge that was already half-healed. Castiel had never thought to see such ruin as beautiful.

"This is fun." Her eyes were like glittering onyx when she looked up at him, the orange glow of an explosion casting a warm glow of light on her skin. "Haven't had a good fight like this in decades."

He knew that the hunters were casting furtive looks over at him but Castiel didn't care as he sucked in a deep breath. The undercurrents of smoke, sulphur, and blood were so strong that he could taste them on his tongue and he studied Meg as she spoke. She pointed out the weakest spots, where hunters and monsters were tangling in heaps of mangled flesh. They were gaining ground but losing fighters, she was saying, but it was the cost of fighting with mortals.

Castiel heard it all as if through white noise.

Reaching out, he touched her face, a glimmer of his hand over her skin setting a fission of heat between them. Meg stammered to a stop, staring up at him as his Grace healed the bruises. It set her darkness on edge, like a hissing beast on its own, but he didn't push. He still hadn't spoken since his first sentence, and he let his thumb drag over the smear of blood high on her cheekbone.

When he caught her questioning look, he gave her a small smile and then disappeared.

Meg was bewildered but not so lost that she didn't block the coming blow of a vampire with just a casual twist of her wrist, sending the angel sword into the female's eye and twisting deep into the brain. Still, she knew in that instant he had muddled her better than anyone else had managed in the past few hours.

The fact that Castiel trusted her not to turn on the hunters, who before she would have slaughtered without a second thought, weighed heavily. He knew what she was capable of, knew just how fragile the idea of a truce was between her and the Winchesters, and still he left her here as if she was to be trusted. Sometimes the weight of trust puzzled Meg far more than it still should.

She was aware of the fire starting to spread, as it climbed over gasoline lines and struck the smaller amounts of explosives staggered from building to building. The sprays outwards were liquid silver, so hot that it scalded most of the monsters on touch. The hunters had abandoned the guns for heavy machetes and axes, careful to avoid being bitten by venomous fangs.

The changed monsters always attacked the same. They were calculated, dangerous because they ran as a pack now, but it was a constant barrage of attack. As if they expected to wear down the hunters before they could finish their attack. Her walk speeding up, so that each strutting stride lengthened, Meg walked and saw the attacks coming long before they came close. The hunters on either side of her were leaping onto the monsters, spinning about and cutting deep into the flesh. Her own fingers tightened around the angel sword and Meg tossed her head back as out of the corner of her eye a hand came towards her throat. Without missing a beat, she sliced, felt the spray of black blood on her hands, and kept moving.

She only had a few more wires to connect together and then Dean could do whatever it was he thought would work.

It sounded too easy, really.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Castiel crouching over two hunters who had fallen. He lifted his hands off of them and the one moved but the other was dead, his left side completely shredded from shoulder to knee. The angel ran his palm over the torn face to close the dead man's eyes, and then moved on.

If Meg moved like a shadow, Castiel was like a beacon of light that pulsed with power. She watched him fight, the movements all quick and abrupt in comparison to her own more brutal style. When he held his palm out, the demon threw an arm over her eyes as he blasted a set of monsters about to charge into a young group of hunters. It seared their flesh and Meg felt the heat from the Grace join the explosions.

"We need to keep moving." His voice was in her ear and Meg removed her hand from her eyes to see him staring at her. "Come on."

He took her arm and pulled her up. That he didn't release his grip was something she didn't care about. His hand was as bloody and sticky as hers, his fingers hot from the use of grace and fire, but like her he was almost inexhaustible compared to the humans. Still holding her wrist, Castiel started off for where the fighting was densest, where the screams had taken on new tones of desperation.

Meg let her angel sword go to her free hand, rolling the hilt between her fingers so it laid blade flat against her wrist. The metal was warm against her cooler skin and she took comfort from the way the sharp edge dug into her flesh, just bordering on penetrating. Castiel turned to walk backwards a bit, analyzing the way that the burning buildings had collapsed to form walls of debris in a charred circle around the outskirts. The town was being reduced to rubble. Made frantic by the fire and by the attack, the monsters were fanning out into wide circles to try to find room to escape.

The traps, buried under rubble and sand, began to snap around vulnerable legs. The hunters leapt out the way, shouting to one another to move it, and Castiel turned to see Meg slicing through the chest of a werewolf. It went down immediately and before it could get its fangs into her knee she slammed her fist into its face, sending it spiralling out of the way.

Meg wiped the blood from her mouth and gestured at the lines that had been dragged out, still attached to her ankle. "I'll get this, you run and tie it off the ends to the truck."

He nodded, but made no move to run off like she ordered. Meg pursed her lips in frustration as he followed her instead. "I'm fine, Cas! Go!" she snapped, shoving at his shoulder. He caught her wrist in his and held on, pulling her forward.

"Don't do anything reckless," he warned and Meg gave him a smirk.

"Come on, angel, would I do anything like that?"

"That is precisely why I said it." His hand went down her cheek and then he was gone. Still feeling his hand on her skin, Meg shook her head and turned to where the last of the wire lines had to be tied off. The other part was starting to go taut as the rolling truck and trailer went deeper into the town with enough dynamite and explosives to put a small hole in Oklahoma.

As if sensing her attention, four of the changed monsters turned, spindly limbs warping into more heavily muscled, ropey arms and taloned legs. WIth the hunters distracted, some already falling under the force of the monsters regrouping, she was on her own. These monsters now stood between her and finishing tying the wire.

Meg flashed a grin and started forward.

* * *

The pickup rolled to a slow stop, its almost lazy procession mostly ignored. No monsters turned to watch it.

But hovering over the last of her brood, Eve noticed.

Head tilting on the side, she stared at the truck and the trailer as she drew a circle in the dirt with her bare toe. One of the last captured demons was in the throes of a change, strengthened by the force of her power so focussed on him. Given the chance, this one would be her best work, she knew that. She hoped it for all of her brood.

Except the appearance of the truck, with no apparent driver, made her wonder what exactly Dean Winchester was up to. All she could do was continue to throw monsters against them, until the bullets ran out, until the knives dulled. She could wait eternity for that. Her children would not fail her.

All around, her children were dying for her and Eve felt a morbid pride in them for that.

The last of Azazel's demon beneath her feet began to arch and scream as the venom changed the DNA in its host body, the monster soul overwhelming the rest of it. The two souls changed and began to break apart to remould into something new, and Eve watched with maternal love. Perfect. Since Azazel had brought her more willing victims, her power had felt renewed by their suffering. By the strength in demon's blood and darkness.

She was nearly ready. The venom was changing her other terrible children into something more powerful, more infectious, and it spread so easily to the demons. So easily to other monsters and to humans.

One way or another, she was going to get her revenge.

The truck continued to putter and she stepped over her newest child to face it, trailing her fingers through the air so the windshield shattered. To reveal an empty cab with the interior light still on. Eve stared, twitching her fingers to kill the engine but it kept purring away like a sick cat.

Behind her, her monster child sat up, almost mewing in pain from the transfer.

She turned her head and smiled benevolently. "New life. So perfect."

"Guess that's maternal blindness. He's one ugly fucker." Dean Winchester's voice was like a shock and she turned to see him ducked under the door. He took quick aim and the bullet from his shot gun slammed into the monster's forehead, so hard that it fell back. Eve screamed in fury as the still vulnerable monster collapsed, dead, and she turned on the truck, raising her hands.

The truck ripped itself apart and Dean took cover behind the wreckage of a building. Eve whipped her hand through the air and the truck moved to the side by her force of will. Not enough to spill its contents but far enough that Dean knew he'd have to run for it. On the other side, he could see where Garth was huddled up beside a dumpster.

"Come on, Dean Winchester," Eve spun a slow circle. "You can't be that much of a coward."

"You'd be surprised." A second female voice, gravelly but calm, made Eve spin to stare at the dirt-smudged brunette standing across the lane. She read her in an instant, knew who she was by the smell of her.

"You… you're the demon. The one I was told about."

The woman was crouched, tying something to the ground. She tossed her hair out of her eyes and then straightened up. She dusted her jeans off as if she had all the time in the world. "That's me."

Eve eyed her up and down. "There's something strange about you."

"Trust me," Meg said with a cunning grin as she stepped towards her. "That's nothing I haven't heard before."

"Meg, what the hell are you doing?" Dean shouted as he reloaded his weapon.

"Something risky." The demon circled around the mother. "You wanted me, here I am."

"Not just you. Your blood and whatever it is that you hold that you were given."

"A great rack and brains?" Meg offered and heard Dean's rude snort even through the noise and distance. Eve lifted a hand, ready to draw Meg close, and the demon stopped her with a jaunty lift of her eyebrow.

"Ah ah. Careful." Meg's eyes went black and she gestured around. "You could set something off."

"You think that any of this frightens me? Your petty fighting, your fire? I can only be killed by one thing and there's no more of that, is there?"

Meg made a face, walking a slow circle in time with Eve's movements. "Maybe not. But things change and you're probably different than you were before," she said but at her side, unseen to Eve, she swivelled her fingers. Further away from Dean, Garth crab-walked towards the wires that led down from the trailer and tried to light the matches he carried. Having narrowly escaped the truck, his fingers were bloody and a few were broken, so his hands shook as he fumbled with the matches.

Ignoring the shouting around them, Dean shot Eve in the arm and watched her twist in the air as the bullet tore the decaying arm off. With a grunt, she grabbed the twitching limb from the ground and refastened it to her shoulder, the skin slowly wrapping around the joint again. She ignored him though, as she came closer and closer to Meg and the demon didn't move.

"You're not afraid of me?" Eve asked. "Are you really that stupid?"

"I've seen the afterlife. Whatever you do to me is nothing," Meg said. Eve stopped moving and the demon backed up a step, trying to lead her where she wanted. Directly in the line of fire of the truck. All she need was her to get her back to it. Behind Eve, the hunters were pushing the monsters towards the centre of town, right in the blast radius. The group was swelling all around them.

If only Eve would move.

"You think I want to kill you so quickly?" Eve darted forward so she stood in front of Meg. Reaching out, she gently touched her cheek, tracing down her body to rest on her stomach. Meg didn't flinch though the heat from that hand was incredible. "When you've created life when you weren't supposed to?" Her fingers tapped a trail lower, hovering over Meg's pelvis. "Oh no, demon. I find you interesting."

The demon couldn't hide the shudder of revulsion that went through her at Eve's touch. "That's nice."

"You can bear your own type of monsters too. Creatures Heaven and Hell would kill to control. That is just… unexpected." Eve leaned forward, the glow from her orange eyes hypnotic while her hand went to Meg's shoulder. "I want to taste what it is that makes your blood sing with creation."

"I'm not one for poetry," Meg said as the grip tightened and she was forced to a knee.

"She's not lying. She hates poetry," Castiel said suddenly from behind Eve. Growling, she turned and reached for him but Castiel ducked, sinking his angel sword in her stomach. He twisted deep, listening to her screams, and thought for a moment she would collapse under the force of the blow. The angel leaned into the pressure, forcing the sword to slide up towards her heart. As if sensing what he was going to try, the Mother lashed out to grab him by the throat. Castiel felt the pressure on his wind pipe and he hung onto the angel sword for his life.

"What did you think would happen?" Eve whispered. "That killing me would be as easy as when you killed my Adam? That you could save them just because you are an angel?"

Castiel tried to twist the blade deeper, mouth moving to utter the exorcism he remembered the Metatron using. But Eve's fingers pinched and he could get the words out.

"You'll watch them die, Castiel, long before I let my children eat you."

Her wheezing breath deepened as she looked into his blue eyes, seeing the glow of Grace within him. With a disgusted grunt, she threw her hand into his chest and sent him flying backwards into the group of approaching monsters. They set upon him, snarling as he was buried underneath their heaving bodies and Castiel twisted as he struggled against them. Their hands, some taloned and others massive paws, tore at him and dragged him down until only one of his arms was visible under the weight of monsters crushing him.

The Mother turned away from the sight, lips parted in a pained snarl as she reached into her stomach. The angel sword slipped from her gut, leaving burning trails of pain, and she dropped the weapon to the ground. Licking her bloody lips, she turned to face the rest of them, hearing the monsters shrieking as they clawed at Castiel. Eve jerked to a stop as Meg drove her own angel sword into her heart.

Ducking Eve's outstretched hand, the demon grabbed the blade Castiel had stabbed Eve with and slammed it into the top of her foot, pinning her to the ground.

With a crunching kick to the demon's stomach using her only foot left, Eve sent Meg flying through the air as well, through the broken window of an old building. But she didn't bother to stretch her power out to see if the demon was still alive. Instinct warned her she was in danger and she struggled to remove the angel sword from her chest, her foot still pinned to the ground. Hissing in pain, she felt a part of her coil up to try to heal the simultaneous wounds but the agony was too sharp.

Without the other side to her power, the side that Adam had taken from her when her soul had split in two, healing would take so much longer. She needed to escape the pain for just a moment, a second, and the agony of the heavenly blades burned hotter and hotter the more she tried to fight it.

"Try to run now," Dean said from somewhere close by. Garth took off at a run as the wires were lit. Dean shot at the ground, the spark of bullet meeting concrete igniting another set. Momentarily struck quiet, Eve watched in fascination as the flames ran in a circle around her, before she looked up. The remaining mass group of monsters milled around her for protection, the protective circle thirty deep, and she smirked at Dean as he and the hunters backed off.

"That's the best you can do?" she asked, her tongue slathering out of her mouth as blood continued to bubble up from her throat. Dean glanced behind her and saw the monsters struggling to stop Castiel as the angel regained his footing and pulled himself from under them. He ran for the cover of a dumpster and, confused, the monsters wavered on following him. Eyes darting back to Eve, Dean grinned back at her with a look nearly as manic as her own.

"No."

He didn't bother to aim to the left, just squeezed the trigger and the bullet embedded in an oil drum in the trailer. The dynamite set in the buildings by Castiel began to explode, igniting one by one in a chain reaction that snarled and roared. The sound was followed by waves of heat as the pick-up truck where Eve was standing exploded and the flames raced up the hem of her dress. Distracted by the heat and pain, she lashed out and her power ricocheted through the air, igniting everything around her as she lost control.

The result was cataclysmic as the connected explosives and cheap pipe bombs exploded together, travelling along wires to strike generators and electrical units. The line explosives at the centre of town, where Meg had been backing Eve into, ignited at the same time. Under the violent force, the cement caved in and bodies were thrown in every direction.

The hunters caught too close screamed as they were burned by the blast, but the monsters in the centre were incinerated by the heat. Even though they were ducking behind the cement wall of a ruined building, a third blast wave threw Dean and Garth through the air as Eve's power and the explosions created a tunnel wind. Dean twisted through the air and managed to shoot his gun one more time at Eve, catching her in the shoulder so she fell back into the fire. Standing further back, the other hunters quickly lifted their weapons and stood, ready to start picking off the monsters that tried to escape the fire roaring through the town centre.

Eve's scream as she was engulfed in flames was deafening but for every attempt she made to escape, the explosions would capture her into the fire again. As the flames licked at her skin, she turned her head to call to her children to protect her. The monsters, so set on protecting her that they had all gathered in the centre to be close to her, were destroyed before her eyes before she could utter a word to them.

* * *

Further north, Azazel lit a cigarette and ignored the angry complaints of the angel inside of him about hurting the body they shared. He watched the massive snarls of flame and explosions go hundreds of feet in the air, debris and old buildings. Gnawing on the tip of the cigarette, he smirked and sucked down a deep lungful of poisonous air. "Not bad." He eyed the sky thoughtful. "Now I just have to wait."

* * *

_His ears wouldn't stop ringing. His skin wouldn't stop prickling and his heart…_

_His heart hurt so much._

Dean came to in the shattered brick remains of a wrecked church, several hundred feet away from the site of the explosion. The blast had thrown him hard enough to cause him to be disoriented and he could barely remember what had happened in those final moments. He could feel his heart pounding, skipping beats now and then as he sucked in lungfuls of soot-heavy air, and the hot agony racing up and down his body caused every muscle in his body to scream and almost beg him not to breathe so deeply. His ears continued to ring and he nearly fell back to unconsciousness just to escape the pain.

Until he heard the loud moans of pain all around him.

 _The hunters. You were supposed to lead them, Dean. Not let them die,_ his father's voice whispered in his head, chastising him gently.

He shifted his weight against the beam he was lying on and slid down to his buttocks. His gun slid from his numb fingers and he leaned his head back, trying to bring the room into focus. His eyes closed and he forced his breathing to slow down, focussing on relaxing until his body seemed to finally come back to his control.

As the minutes ticked by, the pain throbbing in his side became so unbearable that he reached up to see if the heat there was just from a burn. It was worse, he realized, as his fingers dipped into something sticky, blood pumping steadily beneath his touch. The blast had scorched his side but his leather coat had protected him. It was the debris that had done the damage: a jagged end of a two by four was caught in between his ribs. Every breath hurt to take and he groaned, forcing himself to stay awake.

_Where was Cas? Meg? Garth?… Eve?_

As if answering his call, something in grey appeared in the corner of his vision and he knew, with a creeping fear, that it was Eve. Weak and disorientated from the force of the throw, Dean tried to reach for his gun and screamed when the movement wrenched his arm. His shoulder was already dislocated with the flesh just under his collarbone torn up, crippling his one arm.

Something shifted between his ribs and he screamed as the wood wedged there began to burrow deeper with each shudder that went through him. Grasping the jagged two by four in his hand, he grit his teeth and stared at the smoke in the sky before he yanked hard on the wood. It slid out with a slippery pop and he threw his head back and screamed louder, ending it on a growl as he dropped the wood and slumped down.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled, unable to lift his head as he slid further down until he was almost lying flat. He tried to wriggle his leg and realized, biting back a scream when he did, that his leg was twisted all the way around, so the bone was splintered through his jeans. His body was just in a state of shock, unable to process the all the pain hitting him at once.

The mortar crumbled down around him and through a foggy haze he tried to focus his eyes on the hunters lying around him. They were moaning loudly, clawing at their faces as if to dig under the skin. With his chin wedged dropped into his chest and his eyes half-closed, Dean could make no effort to get to them. Even though every fibre in him screamed to move, to try to help, he simply lay sprawled out and listless.

Reaching into his coat, he touched the gaping edges split open in his ribs and chest. The blood was coming out in a slow, pumping ooze and the pain was still making him ill but he could focus again. _I have to get up,_ Dean thought, _have…have to get up_. Shakily he stuffed his fist into the wound to try to stem the bleeding and managed to get himself sitting upright again.

Something brushed his boots and he refused to look up.

"You. You always like to ruin everything," Eve's voice was furious but taunting. "And you never learn."

Suddenly she was there in front of him. Her skin was melted off half of her face and her orange eyes glowed with strange light. Every move she made was jerky and erratic as broken bones fought to reset themselves under her skin. Dean couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

It had been made to slow her down, to give Castiel the opportunity to try his newfound exorcism. She'd been damaged but even now he could feel the power vibrating off of her. They'd made her angry.

Reaching down to his broken leg, Dean felt the strap of his machete, still there, still ready.

"Well, I like to be predictable sometimes," he groaned.

"Oh, you are. Did you think you could stop me? You're nothing but a human." Eve slid onto his lap, her teeth extending into fangs. She ran her nose over his skin and her tongue darted out to taste the drying blood. "You're weak, Dean. I can smell it on you."

"Why don't you just bite me and get it over with?" he challenged though his voice was still a slur. Her hot hands left char marks on his skin.

"Bite you? You, with your heart so ready to break?" Her hand slid down his chest, plucking open his soaked shirt and then gently stroking over his pectoral. She drew a heart on his skin with the blood weeping down from his ear before she pinched him cruelly. "Like I said, you're weak, Dean. And I can't have such weakness continue in my kind."

He jutted his "So kill me. It's me you wanted to kill."

Eve chuckled and leaned close, arms looping around his neck. She sat so close that he could feel her hot breath on his mouth. "Poor Dean Winchester. So ready to make up for decades of his life, so eager to die to save these hunters."

He managed to open his swollen eyes a little more and Eve tapped her other fingers on his bloody lips, tracing a moist trail. "I'm not going to kill you, Dean. You don't deserve that sort of mercy from me."

Shifting on his lap, she made sure her knee bumped his gaping cuts and caused him to grit his teeth to hide a scream.

"You're going to watch, Dean, as I make all of them mine."

"So much for the Mother, huh?" he asked, knowing what she meant

"I will be the Mother you all were sorely lacking." Suddenly her fingers went tight around his throat and forced his head back. "Do you think I'm stupid enough to infect only the demons? They are stronger than your kind, torture and Hell makes it that way, but humans spread infections faster. My gifts will go to the humans, until there is nothing left for the hunters to hunt. Until the difference between man and monster is nothing but words whispered in the night of how it used to be."

Dean fought to find the words to curse her and Eve lifted her other hand to lick the blood from her fingers.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered but Eve didn't seem to hear him.

"You just made me mad enough to doom all of you. I would have settled for the demon bitch and her child at first, until you. It is always you, Dean." She gave a little snarl and leaned close. "The world as you know it is going to end, Dean Winchester. Everyone, from your friends to your precious brother, will burn with it. I'm going to tie you up to watch these first ones being turned. You can see the change in them and know how much you failed your only chance of family."

Her fingers pressed on his windpipe. "You will watch and scream when I turn your brother in front of you."

"Yeah?" He tightened his fingers on the machete and then swung. It buried into her neck and Eve choked in surprise as it sliced clean halfway through the column of her throat. "I think I'll pass."

She backhanded him and he held on for his life as she twisted him around, trying to dislodge the machete. Her screaming was guttural and loud, and she struck at him again and again to try to get free, her mind still distorted by what the explosion had done to her. She raised her fist, fingers opening and Dean felt her power swarm into him, pressing hard on his heart.

Something flashed by them and Dean managed to look up through the blood dripping from his cut forehead. A hand went into Eve's hair and grabbed the knife for Dean, pulling hard. The machete sawed nearly into her neck the complete way, and Castiel stabbed through the back of her neck with an angel sword. But like a desperate animal, she tossed her attacker off like a rag doll and her open palm cracked as it struck his face. Castiel collapsed to his knees, spitting out blood as Eve shrieked and tried to dislodge the blades but the effect only drove them deeper.

Keening like a wild creature, she suddenly flickered out of sight and left behind only the stench of burnt flesh and dirt behind.

"Je…Je…Jesus, that was something," Dean said weakly. Castiel scrambled on his hands and knees over to him, parting his shirt to get to the wound. The sight of the blood and torn wound in the hunter's side was enough to make him tear Dean's sleeve off and press the wad of material over the hole.

"You're hurt. Badly." Castiel winced as he felt the blood oozing over his hands. "I'll be okay. The hunters…"

Castiel glanced at them and saw that they were about to be lost to something worse than death. "You're hurt, Dean."

"Gotta help them, Cas," Dean said feverishly, grabbing him by his collar and hauling him close. "We've gotta help them!"

"You need healing. And I can't do it for you." Castiel reached down and put his hand over Dean's chest. From the centre of his chest to his shoulder, the skin was torn and dirty and when Castiel pressed his hand down, he felt how erratically Dean's heart was beating. "I'm needed here. There are still some I can save. But I need to save you first. Your wounds are deep but if I get you to safety, you can be helped."

Castiel pressed his palm over Dean's side. His fingers flexed over the wound and his Grace poured out in a hot flash that made Dean hiss and grit his teeth, biting his tongue to control his scream. The wound cauterized just enough to stem the blood flow but Castiel, looking at it, knew how much worse it was going to get. Especially if Eve recovered and decided to try to kill Dean again.

"Where's Garth?" Dean asked through wheezing breaths. Watching him so closely, Castiel could hear that his heartbeat was getting worse and worse as his body went into shock.

"I don't know. The blast destroyed nearly everything close to Eve. There are almost no monsters left."

"Gotta find him. Owe him one," Dean said with a weak chuckle. "How about Meg? Lying low?"

"She's…" Castiel wasn't sure what he could feel, he had searched for her earlier, but he knew she wasn't dead. He'd know if that happened, he was sure. "Likely handling the stragglers. A few of hunters had stayed back and I think she is picking off the monsters that made it out of the fire."

"Good… good." Dean's head sagged towards his chest. "Just need some sleep and I'll help you."

Castiel's alarm grew as Dean's breathing went shallow and he gripped his shoulder, hauling him up so the hunter's arm slung across his shoulders. "Come on, I'm taking you to Sam."

"Good… good," the hunter repeated. "He's gonna kill me."

Castiel nodded. "It is very likely."

* * *

Sam woke with a start, aware of a deep pain in his side that throbbed and ached fiercely. It startled him enough that he could only stare at the ceiling for a second before he knew why it hurt so much. There was only reason why he would be in such pain when he'd been asleep before.

"Dean… Dean!" he whispered. It came in rolling visions to him, of fire and Eve's eyes on him, her power wrapping around him and the pain becoming so blinding he wanted to vomit in reaction.

" _I'm sorry, Sam."_ His brother's voice echoed in his head as if he was standing right over him.

"Oh, no you don't, Dean," Sam growled and he closed his eyes, feeling his brother's pain. "You're not dying without me."

 _I'm going to kill him if he left me behind,_ Sam thought as he rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up on the cushions. He abruptly came face to face with Nyx, sitting on the arm of the sofa by his head. She had her unicorn pulled up to her chin, her wide blue eyes taking him in.

"Nyx? You're still up?" She nodded and he looked around. "We're still at Chuck's?" Another nod and he moved to put his head in his hands. He trembled as the throbbing pain in his temples became like a drum. "My head is killing me."

"Sorry." Nyx mumbled aloud and Sam turned.

"For what?"

"Bad dreams." She sighed and crawled over to sit against him. Her tiny hands went out and touched his head. Bewildered by the coolness of her hands, Sam let her fingers sift through his hair and felt the pain leave slowly. Nyx stopped touching him and looked back down at her bare feet. "I want to go home."

Sam wondered at how frightened she was now.

"Me too but you have to stay here. It's safe here. But I'm gonna go to Dean and we're gonna fight those monsters, okay? Then we can go home but you have to be good," he said, trying to get a smile. Nyx nodded but there was something irrevocably sad in her blue eyes. Sam wasn't sure what else to do with her and was about to ask her where Kevin was when her head lifted quickly and she looked at the door. Sam followed her gaze. "What?"

"He's here!" Nyx whispered excitedly, struggling to hop down off the couch.

Sam heard Kevin's loud shout outside by the time Nyx's feet touched the hardwood. "Sam! I need you!"

Ignoring Nyx running behind him, he went to the rear yard and saw Kevin and Castiel supporting a barely conscious Dean. Sam forgot all about Nyx and her fear, and reached for his brother.

"Dean!" Taking over for Kevin, he shouldered most of Dean's weight as he helped Castiel haul him through the back door. Sitting on the stairs, Chuck watched them drag the eldest Winchester in but made no move to help them. Nyx followed with Kevin, her tiny hand tucked into his bloodstained one, and her eyes were wide as the men deposited Dean onto the sofa.

Sam brushed Castiel out of his way and looked in horror at the damage done to his brother. "What the hell happened?"

Castiel barely hesitated to mutter, "Eve."

Staring only at Dean, Sam's expression was bleak and hurt. "He went without me."

"To protect you," was the only answer he was given and as he ripped Dean's shirt apart to get the wounds, Sam laughed at Castiel. The sound was void of any humour.

"Protect me? Damn it, Cas, you…" He looked up and finally really noticed the angel. His face was battered, his own clothing torn by what looked like claw swipes, and the blood that stained his hands was still fresh. Sam swallowed his anger and looked down at Dean. "Thank you for getting him back here. Mostly alive."

"You can start to help him here. I have to get back and finish what we started."

"That's it?" Kevin asked, staring wide-eyed at Dean's open wounds. "You're not going to tell us everything?"

"We don't have time for that," Castiel snapped, getting to his feet. "I'll be back by morning."

He was almost at the back door when he felt something pulling on his coat. Agitated and angry at himself for not protecting Dean the way he promised he would, Castiel spun and expected Sam to be behind him. But it was Nyx, standing just below him and looking lost and afraid.

Castiel didn't even register Chuck watching them with avid interest.

"Nyx," he murmured, dropping to a knee and resting his arms on her shoulders. "Are you being good?"

She nodded and her eyes darted to Chuck. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she leaned into Castiel. "I kicked him."

Castiel smiled. "That wasn't nice."

"He was mean," she stage-whispered and Castiel ran his hand over her dark wavy hair.

"Then it's okay."

"I wanna go home," Nyx whispered. "Wanna go with you and Mommy."

"Soon. I need to go help your mother." He patted her head gently. "I'll be back in the morning."

She nodded and before he could stand she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his neck. Castiel was startled but held her in return, aware of the clean smell of her and the warmth she radiated. The aches he felt, the drain on his Grace, suddenly no longer felt as terrible. Instead he felt revived. He closed his eyes and absorbed what he felt from her. Love and dependence; she needed him.

The feeling that they were being watched made him open his eyes to see Chuck still watching them. Kissing her absently on the forehead, he set Nyx back. "Stay with Sam and Dean, okay?"

She nodded and twisted her tiny fingers in knots as she watched Castiel disappear out the door. Trying to be like the adults, she closed the door and stretched up to lock it before she ran for the living room. Chuck watched her race back to be with Kevin and the Winchesters, and then turned thoughtfully to stare at the spot Castiel had just been in.

* * *

The town was now little more than a pile of charred rubble and corpses. The explosion had blown a burning pit in the centre of town, ringed by further charred marks that smelt of ash and blood. Castiel stood on the cusp of it and sighed, feeling the death all around him. Once he had left Nyx, his body began to ache again. He could still feel Eve's power in this town, permeating it like a disease and his Grace prickled in irritation. The remaining hunters, the few that had survived, staggered out against each other through the smoke and fire, the dead monsters no longer worrying them. Most looked as exhausted as he felt. It had only lasted a matter of hours but Castiel felt as tired as he had after saving Dean from Hell, when going into Hell to reclaim other souls.

He wanted to stand in one place but he resolutely put one foot in front of the other and circled the square.

The hunters gave him searching looks, as if waiting for him to give them some order of what to do. Of the number Garth had brought in from all sides of the Midwest, only twenty-five remained.

But Castiel noticed none of them. He searched the smoke with eyes that saw everything and discarded it just as quickly when he didn't find what he wanted. The air was running hot as the fires continued to snarl and crawl across the ground, the smell of burnt hair and flesh so strong that finally some were bending over to gag.

One hunter, an older woman who was dirt marked and tired, approached him. She held out an angel sword to him. "We found this near the wreckage."

Castiel blinked and rolled it between his palms. This was Meg's. His own was in Eve's throat. Immediately he looked up and around, even as the hunter began to ask if he could heal the others, where Dean was, what they were going to do. How the bitten hunters were being kept in the ruins of the old variety store. She rambled out her questions and Castiel never answered. It was nearly all white noise to him, thoughts filed away until he found what he wanted.

He wasn't sure what he felt when he saw Meg staggering through the smoke beside a burly hunter, clutching her side. If it was fear, anger, love or gratefulness, they all moulded into one lump that settled in his throat. Meg was nearly dragging an injured leg, her ragged clothing torn and bloody. She looked exhausted and battle worn.

But she was alive.

The hunter was still saying something but Castiel apparated to reappear beside the demon. "Meg. How badly are you hurt?"

She hadn't jumped at his sudden appearance or the way he blurted out the question, but looked up at him with a slow grin. "Shut up, Clarence."

He smiled, understanding that slice of nostalgia, and lifted her hand from her side. There were deep gashes from claws and teeth up her arm and he slid his hand gently down to try to help her heal. Meg's eyes stayed on his face, watching the way he tilted his head, the way he stared at the wounds as he touched them.

"You look like hell." She reached up and touched the deep scratches on the side of his face. Ones that would have scarred his face if he was mortal. He hissed as her fingers grazed the ruined flesh but before she could pull her hand away he leaned his head into the hurting touch, feeling as if it grounded him. Meg's darker power was slipping along her skin now, healing her in patches, and Castiel watched the deep cut under her eye still weep blood though slowly it was closing over.

"You look terrible," he said and she grinned in amusement at his weak attempt at joking.

"I've been better." She turned around and he gripped her elbow to help her balance. "Took care of the stragglers but can't say if any got loose."

"Eve?" he asked, watching her face. Meg nodded to the distant woods.

"No one could catch her but she went alone. Screaming with her head half-chopped off. You and Dean, I bet?"

He nodded. "Dean was badly hurt. I took him to Chuck's. To Sam."

"Well, that should piss Sam off. At least we took care of the infection problem."

"Hopefully." Castiel walked around her. Content that he had her safe again, he squinted and tried to see through the fire. "Have you seen Garth?"

Her silence made him turn to see her staring at the temporary triage the hunters had set up. She looked over her shoulder at him and then meaningfully nodded to the group at the edge of the rubble. Hovering behind her, Castiel saw that in the pile of people, Garth was struggling to move. Even through the heat and haze, they could both see that his neck was ripped open and Shelia, the older hunter, was pressing gauze to it. As they approached, the sight of how deep the wound was became more and more obvious, and Meg looked over her shoulder at Castiel again. They both could see the damage.

Castiel refused to meet her eyes and knelt beside Shelia, brushing her hands aside.

"H-hey," Garth said, giving them a weak grin. Whenever he spoke, blood bubbled up between his lips. "We g-get her?"

Castiel shook his head and pressed his palm flat on his neck. What he felt throbbing there made him close his eyes. "You've been infected."

"Ye-yeah. Big bastard jumped me during the blast. Th-the others?" Garth tried to turn his head and screamed as the action caused the wound to open wider. Castiel cursed, resting his hand on the wound and trying to force his Grace to heal him. But unlike the woman before, unlike Meg, Garth's body was already adapting to the infection.

"Meg, the others?" the angel snapped, trying to stem the blood flow. He heard her feet scuffing on the burnt ground as she surveyed the people moaning and struggling.

"They're changing. I can… smell it." She crouched down next to one man and tilted his head away. The black vines were travelling from his ears down to his chest and she exposed his skin to see the bite wound. The fangs were precise and she had the suspicion that this was Eve's bite, not a werewolf or vampire.

"C-can't let them change," Garth said with a nod.

"I can heal you."

"Yeah?" Garth managed to roll his head on his shoulders to look up at Castiel. "Why haven't you then?"

Castiel pursed his lips, caught in the lie.

"Shel.." He looked up at the woman cradling his head. "Get the others to the safe houses up the Midwest. Organize something and wait for Dean."

She nodded and let his head go gently to the cement. Castiel was aware of Meg pressing close behind him as the hunter ran off to speak to the others. Garth's attention though was for Castiel.

"G-gotta tell Dean Bobby would've been proud," Garth said, smiling up at him. His eyes had taken on the diseased euphoria Castiel remembered seeing in Meg. "I know it."

"Yes, he would."

Garth grasped his wrist. "I'm ready."

Nodding, Castiel put his hand over Garth's eyes and murmured. He felt that slight frisson of power coursing through Garth, the infection already starting to change the body, and he forced his power to still Garth's heart completely so the soul would be released. Garth's breathing stuttered out in a slow exhale and the hand clenched around Castiel's wrist fell away.

Castiel stared down at Garth's peaceful face before he lifted his eyes to see a Reaper standing beside him. The dark haired woman stared at Garth's body and then at him. A soul stood beside her, looking confused but happy by the change.

"Tell Dean," she began but then stopped herself with a wistful smile. "That this was for the best."

"I will," Castiel agreed and the Reaper turned to Garth.

"Who're you?" the hunter asked eagerly.

"I'm Tessa. I like to collect hunters sometimes." Reaching out, she touched his cheek. "Let's take you home."

They were gone before Castiel could say another word and he watched the light climb the sky. He hadn't known Garth well, but he enjoyed the way the likeable young man had been in and out of his life. But grief was always a strange thing to feel for an angel and he wasn't sure if he was feeling it as deeply as he should.

Standing up, he looked at Garth's body and frowned, puzzled by how unhappy it made him to have to act that way. He was used to acting with a bizarre form of mercy but to someone close to him, to Dean and Sam? It actually ached.

Slim fingers, sticky with blood and ash, slipped into his grip and held until he looked over at Meg. Her eyes were dark, the orange glow on her skin almost sparkling, and he forgot his misgivings when he remembered why he had come back. His fingers squeezed hers and then Meg dropped her eyes to look at the rest of the hunters still beginning to change.

"Come on. Better us do this than the hunters."

She turned away from him and he willingly turned to follow her, glad to have the choice taken from him.

* * *

Dean howled as Sam poured the disinfectant directly on the wound. "Gah, fucking damn it!" he screamed as the liquid burned his skin. Holding onto his shoulders, Kevin dug his fingers in and grunted as Dean thrashed

"I thought he'd be knocked out by now, he drank enough!" Kevin snapped at Sam. Dean heaved up to kick at Sam.

"Get those things the fuck out!" he shouted and Sam shook his head, one big hand holding him in the middle of his chest. He continued to pull large splinters of wood out the wound and he ignored Dean's cursing and heaving. He barely even reacted when Dean swore at him. He felt the pain in his brother as acutely as if he was the one injured. Sweat poured down his face and he was grey skinned from the pain in his body.

"Wish Cas was here."

"Why, he-he can't heal me," Dean moaned and Sam looked up as he reached for the gauze. The wound was starting to ooze more blood.

"No, but he could knock you out better than any horse tranquilizer Chuck had in his medicine cabinet."

Behind them, Chuck nervously looked at the blood pooling on his kitchen floor. The table was dripping with it and most of his dishrags were soaked in blood. It was morbid enough that Nyx sat on a chair near the sink, cuddling her unicorn and watching Sam work as if it fascinated her.

"Shouldn't we get him to a hospital?" Chuck offered, going a little green.

"No!" All three men yelled at him and Nyx made a sound, clamping her hands over her ears. Kevin punched Sam hard in the shoulder and jerked his chin at her, but Sam only had eyes for his brother. The wound was clean now and draining.

"Why the hell would you do something so reckless, Dean?"

"Because you're my little brother and if one of us deserves to be saved this, it's you."

"That's stupid. You keep saying crap like that and I'm gonna put that two by four back in you, you got me?" Sam stuck a needle into his flesh and ignored Dean's grunting hiss of pain. He sewed up the cleaner part of the wound and Dean went quiet finally, slipping into a wakeful doze as the pain became too much. Sam bent over close and concentrated, aware that his eyes were stinging with tears that Dean would do this to himself still. All these years and Dean still doubted his own worth.

Maybe the damage from the past few years had been worse than they both knew. Dean just needed some relief.

He noticed Nyx staring at them and he wondered…

"Nyxie?" He wiggled his bloody fingers and to her credit Nyx didn't flinch, just stepped close to him by Dean's head. "Can you help Dean?"

She gave him a puzzled frown. "Dean?"

"Like how you helped me. Make him feel better," Sam asked gently, still focussed on Dean's wounds.

"Sam," Kevin murmured. "What are you doing?"

"Just let… let her try. If she wants." Sam finally looked at Nyx. "Can you?"

She nodded. "Want Dean better. He's hurt."

"Good girl."

Nyx went to Dean's head and began to stroke her hands through his blood and sweat soaked hair, pressing her own cheek against his. "Sorry. You did best."

He chortled, head twisting. "Nyx? You sound like someone I used to know."

Nyx ignored his choking and wrapped her arms gently around his head, cheek still touching his. "Want you better."

Sam continued to work on Dean but noticed his breathing wasn't as laboured. Smiling, he nodded to Nyx. "Good girl."

She beamed at him but her hands stayed on Dean's face. "Love you," she whispered. "You're my best friend."

Dean cracked an eye open. "What is with girls saying that when I'm dying?"

She gave him a puzzled frown. "Not gonna die."

"No?" Dean smiled and she hugged him tighter. "Maybe not."

Sam was close to finishing when there was a loud knock. Forgotten in the corner, Chuck pushed away from the counter and headed for the door. "I still think he needs to get to a hospital," he shouted as he unlocked the door and yanked it open, still speaking, "It's 4 am, what do you want?"

"Chuck Shurley?" The young man on his doorstep was dressed in the same heavy jacket and denim as the Winchesters. But something about him made Chuck try to block the sight of his kitchen from open view.

"Yeah?"

"Good. Wanted to be sure I came to the right house. Can I come in?"

"Who the hell are you?" Chuck asked, closing his bathrobe over his chest as if it was armour. The smile he was given was cool. "I don't let perfect strangers in my house."

"I'm sorry, there's been a miscommunication here." The man's eyes turned yellow and five large men appeared at his back. "You seemed to think I was giving you a choice."

* * *

In Heaven, despite the light all around them, every angel froze mid-step and felt as if they had been plummeted into darkness.

In Hell, despite the heat of fire and pain, every demon knew what it was to feel ice-cold again.

On Earth, the world continued to spin but many people, in every country, was aware that their hearts actually ached for a moment in time.

* * *

Meg was weary to the bone. For the first time in a long time, she had won something but was too tired to feel particularly like celebrating. The town had cleaned out; the hunters were gone, all still promising to hunt Eve when they recovered, but none wanting to stay behind. The last of the cars left quickly and Castiel and Meg were alone, surrounded by smouldering buildings and bodies burning on the pyres the hunters had built.

Watching the bodies burn, Meg was aware of something in the pit of her stomach, like a trickle of a warning that crawled through her blood. Her eyes dropped to the ground and she frowned at her bloody hands as if noticing them for the first time.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked as he waved his hand, extinguishing the last pile. Meg shook herself.

"Just tired out, I guess. That was fun but all fun things come to an end." She made a shooting gesture at her head. "Adrenaline high, that sort of thing."

"Mm." His hand went to hers and he grasped it. "Let's go."

"You think any thing else got away?" Meg asked as she stepped into him, using his body as support.

"Unlikely. I'm just glad we survived this. Eve's creatures are gone, and she is on the run, injured."

Meg eyed him.

"Clarence, one thing you'd better learn about a mother like Eve is that you screw with her kids, she doesn't forget it."

"We have time, either way," he said soothingly.

The air around them shifted and Castiel actually let himself relish the movement, the serenity of flight when there was no one to stop him. Meg's body was solid against him as he crossed the time and space in mere tenths of a second, but to him it felt like minutes. The demon had her eyes closed and barely seemed to notice the lights around them. But Castiel saw the glow through her true self and wondered what she felt beneath the protective meatsuit, if she felt the light and the movement like he did.

Somehow he doubted that.

Affectionately, he squeezed her hand as they appeared on the sidewalk across from Chuck's house and waited for her eyes to open.

"You know," Meg said, clearing her throat and shakily swaying on her feet. "I'm still not used to that."

He simply smiled and looked around.

The smashed-in front door to Chuck's house made his hand tighten on hers. "Meg…"

She turned sidelong to him and he saw her profile harden. "Something's wrong."

He let her go and charged across the street, not caring that an early morning school bus just barely missed him. Meg was close behind and when Castiel paused at the gate she brushed past him.

"Meg?" She turned on the front step to face him and Castiel held up his hand to show her his blood soaked fingers.

"Whose is it?" she asked, her voice low and Castiel thought he heard fear there. He couldn't bring himself to answer what he smelt there and he lowered his hand, shaking his head. Meg spun and walked into the house, Castiel making sure he kept close.

Two men were beheaded at the front door. "Vampires," Meg murmured. "What are they doing here?"

Castiel moved into the front room and found it destroyed. Cushions were thrown apart and blood and smoke drenched the odours of it. Even the floor boards looked burnt and something had scratched them.

"Sam?" Castiel called out as he walked deeper into the house. "Kevin?"

"Cas?" Sam's voice was weak from the kitchen and he pushed open the door to find the kitchen a disaster. Cupboards were smashed, wood frames were half-torn off the wall, glass littered the ground, and there was even the heavy smell of gas in the air from the stove still on. Castiel quickly turned it off with a wave of his hand and looked around the wreckage.

He saw Meg in the living room close by through the open window between the rooms, sorting through furniture. Sam's voice, a little stronger now, made him look away to see the hunter crushed below the overturned fridge near the sink. Murmuring his name, Castiel lifted fridge off of him and crouched down.

"Sam? Sam, what happened?" he asked, smoothing his hand down his face.

Sam's eyelids fluttered weakly. "Chuck answered the door."

"Where's Chuck? Kevin?" Castiel leaned close and Sam tried to focus on him. His eyes were swollen up, the blood vessels ruptured, and he could barely focus on his friend. But he managed to point to the other side of the room, towards the basement door. Castiel turned, not wanting to look but knowing he had to.

Chuck's body was lying upright against the door, pinned there by an angel sword through his throat. He'd been lifted off the ground and the blood that dripped from the gaping wound had already slowed to a trickle. His eyes were staring lifelessly at the room and Castiel closed his own eyes, not sure why he felt such… such loss at the thought of him being dead.

That was strange. Chuck's apathy towards them had been something he'd never cared about but now? Suddenly he did now.

"Kev? Kevin… Cas, they took Kevin!" Sam shouted at him, grasping at him as his pain made him frantic. His words were heavily slurred and he had to spit out a gob of blood on the ground. Weakly he grabbed at Castiel's coat. "Said they needed someone to tell them how it all happened."

"Who did?" Castiel whispered.

"Something happened to him when Chuck died. Like his eyes… I couldn't see because of all that light. He was trying to protect Nyx. We all were. Dean tried. We were gonna… gonna be okay, I know it," Sam rambled. Castiel swallowed and clasped his face between his hands.

"Sam, where's Dean, where's Nyx?"

"Gone." Sam whimpered as his broken leg tried to twist on its own as his aching body jumped. "They attacked us."

"Who?" Meg's voice was from the living room, and was too quiet. It even lacked her usual sharp edge.

Sam's eyes finally focussed entirely on Castiel. "It- Cas, it was Azazel. And whatever is inside him. Had monsters with them. They looked like the ones who attacked us before. I tried, Cas, I swear. Dean and I… we tried. They did something to Kevin, killed Chuck."

Castiel swallowed. "I need to see what you saw," he whispered, reaching out, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Meg knelt beside him.

"Don't," she warned. Her voice was frigid and her face blank, as if she was preparing herself. Castiel glanced down and saw she was holding the ripped remnants of a stuffed toy. The soft material was soaked in blood and the demon was twisting it between her fingers. Panic sweltered in the pit of his stomach and he looked up at her.

"Meg…"

"What happened to Dean?" Meg asked, not focussing on him.

"He… tried to save us." Sam's eyes were suddenly bright with tears of pain and he had to sniff hard to get rid of them. "We almost won when they grabbed me. Told Dean not to but that thing took him."

Castiel ran his eyes over the ground and noticed that lying on the floor near Chuck was a body double of Adam Milligan. "No… Dean wouldn't."

"He said he had to save us. He just forgot he was dealing with a demon. I don't know how he got in Dean but he did."

Meg's eyes shut for a long moment. "Azazel used us, used Eve. He knew we'd go to fight her and leave Nyx and Kevin unguarded."

"He said he wanted you to have reason to come and see him."

"So he took her," Meg whispered. Sam looked up at the ceiling and then slowly closed his eyes. Meg moved fast, grabbing his throat before Castiel could stop her. "Did he take her?" she asked, voice still not raising.

"He told the monsters to do whatever they wanted to her, to kill her if they wanted before he left." Sam finally looked at her. "Said it would be a lesson to you for turning away from what you'd been told to do. To Cas for disobeying Heaven."

Meg released him and looked down at the destroyed unicorn in her hands. Her fingers curled into fists and she looked at the toy's black eyes.

"I heard her screams, Cas. I heard the fighting when Kevin tried to protect her and I tried… I tried," Sam whispered, eyes on the angel again and he cursed his broken body when he saw his friend's shock. Castiel's face was stricken as he looked at Sam, his blue eyes large and almost innocent looking. "God, I tried. Dean… I lost Dean and then they took Kevin before they turned on Nyx. I…Cas…."

The angel let him go slowly, hands falling away. Mute, Castiel stood up and looked at Meg. The demon was frozen, staring at the remnants of the toy Nyx had loved, but no expression was on her face. But like her he knew whose blood was on the material, whose blood had been on the gate and the floor.

_How could they have let this happen?_

He disappeared out of the kitchen and only made it to the rear yard under the old arbour. Sinking to his knees, he stared up at the fading stars for a long moment before he then looked down at his hands. The blood staining his palms, evidence of the death he had caused, none of it registered as sharply as the deeper agony he felt now. It sliced through him and he suddenly wanted to destroy everything around him.

The scream boiled up in his chest and erupted outwards in his true voice, shattering glass and destroying the power lines. He screamed as he realized just what he had lost. Castiel didn't care if the entire world burned with the force of his grief and anger exploding out of him.

_Let it._


	14. Drown (When Angels Grieve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel puts a plan into motion to find Dean and Kevin again, not caring of the consequences when he contacts Heaven itself. Meg makes plans of her own when threatened by Abaddon and the repercussions of losing Dean catches up to Sam when he goes to find the remaining midwestern hunters .

_Summary: Castiel puts a plan into motion to find Dean and Kevin again, not caring of the consequences when he contacts Heaven itself. Meg makes plans of her own when threatened by Abaddon and the repercussions of losing Dean catches up to Sam when he goes to find the remaining midwestern hunters ._

* * *

**Part 14: Drown (When Angels Grieve)**

The low strum of a guitar from the speakers helped keep a steady hum in the room, somehow accenting the hunters rhythmically swaying together in time to the music. After four bottles of cheap vodka and tequila, sway was all they could manage to do without falling. The women tripped and laughed their way across the rotted floorboards, occasionally bumping into one another before twirling off.

If anyone had stumbled in, it might have been mistaken for a small party. Only the hunters weren't celebrating. They were mourning as only hunters could do when trying not to remember the reason why they were grieving for fallen friends. They had enough nightmares, being hunters, and now they had even more

They were two of the five who had made it to the Oklahoma border and after some negotiating with the bar's owner, they had found the safe house tucked just in the back and empty of anyone else. The bar's owner was a crusty old man who had been a friend of Garth's, and he had begrudgingly let them use the back room the moment they had pulled in. Once there, all five had promptly started to get drunk and nurse their battle wounds for the better part of the early morning.

A woman with unnaturally red hair woman rested her head back on her brunette friend's shoulder and sighed as they moved. As she twisted around to carry through an attempted spin, she began hiccuping and sending a waft of tequila-tinged breath in the air between them.

"You're so drunk," the brunette laughed.

"I'm missing two fucking fingers." The redhead held up her right hand to show the missing thumb and middle finger. "If that's not reason to get drunk, I don't know what is."

The brunette leaned close and kissed her cheek. "You just have to move quicker next time."

"I had my hand half way down that thing's throat before it let go, don't tell me about moving fast," the redhead snapped, shoving at her face with her hand."

The other woman laughed and spun her away, bringing her back in a mocking form of a salsa as the record turned over to something more upbeat. They were both too drunk to have any sort of finesse, but then again, no one in their small group had been sober since they had dragged themselves into the safe house. The past few hours had been spent in sweat soaked sleeping bags and holding down each other when the nightmares had grown too vivid. No one discussed what they had seen. No one wanted to think about it. The blood, the heat and the stench of monsters and death would likely stay with them for the rest of their lives.

"I'm feeling dizzy," the brunette muttered and she sagged away from the other dancer onto the couch beside the snoring men. One plopped his head on her shoulder and fell back asleep, muttering that he could still feel fire.

"Lots of fun you guys are. We have to wait for the phone calls, remember?" The dancer spun and ran her hands over her taut stomach. The gauzed stumps where her fingers used to be brushed against the scarred skin and she grunted when the fabric snagged. Still too drunk to really feel the throbbing in her hand, the woman spun away and sashayed over to the table, picking up the bottle of vodka and drinking directly from it. The clear liquor burned on the way down and she gasped, choking on it with tears in her eyes.

"You need some sleep. We all do. We're out of weapons so we've got to keep our… our heads clear," the second woman said sleepily. Her eyes half-closed and she yawned, curling her feet up onto another hunter's lap.

"It can't get worse than this, come on," the dancer said, laughing as if it was a joke. But then her eyes half-closed and her remaining fingers tightened into a fist. "I don't want to sleep. Please."

As if answering her, there was a knock on the door and the entire group on the couch looked over. The redhead nervously looked back and forth, but the other girl waved her hand impatiently for her to check it out. The bar should have been emptied by now; she'd heard everyone leave after the lock up and the hidden room was on lockdown itself. Only the bar owner would know it was there. Laying her hand on the door, she tried not to look at the stumps of her fingers.

"Who's there?" she shouted through the door. "What's the password?"

"Dean Winchester and the password is pumpernickel for some reason." The familiar, friendly voice made her eyes open wider, sobriety for a second taking over. She had thought he was gone to see his brother but maybe he needed a place to hide out as well. Unchaining the door, she swung it open and launched herself at him.

"Dean! Thank God you're okay!" she nearly squealed as she hugged him. He hugged her back and she was sure she felt his hands momentarily slip down her sides. Not that she minded; this was Dean Winchester and she, like her friends, had had more than a few fantasies of him and his brother.

"God had nothing to do with it." He gave her a slow grin that made her stomach flutter and then gestured at the group on the couch. "You're all here?"

"Yeah, yeah." She moved back to the couch with its lump of bodies. "Guys, wake up! Dean's here."

They were all so drunk that only one managed a throaty moan for a greeting and then snuggled back down.

Dean looked out the door he'd come through, fingers tapping on the door frame. "So there's no one else coming?" he asked. "You haven't seen Sam or Castiel, have you?"

"No. Was Sam coming around? I didn't see him in the fight. And the angel?" She made a sound and limped over to get a chair for him. "He doesn't hang around us. Last saw him with that woman you brought with you. What was her name?"

"Meg," one of the drunks piped up. "She was a tight ass."

"That's right, she was with you all," Dean said and he nodded, satisfied that no one was coming in.

"So what've you got for us, Dean?" the hunter asked hopefully, hiding her maimed hand behind her back in a vain attempt to look normal. "I mean, you have news already, right?

"Well." He shook his wrist and a shining silver blade slid to his palm. "It's bad news for you all."

Her eyes went to the knife, lips half-parted in a surprised 'o'. Thinking he was joking, she nervously chuckled and looked up into his green eyes. Slowly the laughter faded and she backed up a few steps. "Dean?"

He smiled, an expression void of any real emotion, as he closed the door and with an ominous click locked it .

* * *

_Heaven…_

Camael dug his fingers into the garden soil, feeling it get beneath his well manicured nails and dirty them. It felt good to feel the earth under his hands. Though it was an illusion, with all the time spent in the Garrison the angel had found that moments like this to himself were precious and few. Here, in this garden, he could feel everything that happened in Heaven but did not have to act on every little thing that went wrong.

Something had gone wrong and the warning of it had ricocheted through Heaven, though no angel was certain what that feeling was.

The moment of loss had struck him as hard as every angel but Camael had managed to control his reaction. While other angels had reacted with screams, with flying to what remained of the true Garden to see if they could feel _Him_ there again. Several had searched all of Heaven and much of Earth to see if they could find Him now that they had felt His presence again. Camael had stayed behind to pray, kept to his duties, lost himself in them since time had a way of passing so differently in Heaven. The angels of every choir under his command had let him be, understanding that maybe this was merely his odd reaction to what felt like the call of their Father.

Then the call had died and they were left as cold and alone as before.

Camael felt the change in air the instant he dug his fingers into the soil again. Without lifting his head, he patted a small flower into place and looked up at the light he could sense approaching

"Hello, Castiel."

The gates slammed open with a furious bang and the angel stormed through. His true form was looming behind the confines of his vessel, the roaring shadow of what he truly was causing a spectre of enormous proportions, and everything about him _crackled_ with energy _._ Remembering to keep calm himself, Camael stood with his hands held out to the side to placate the approaching angel. Before he could move Castiel had him by the throat and shoved back into a tree, the bark crunching into his spine.

He groaned, grabbing at the hand holding him. "Castiel, brother! Stop this!"

"Why didn't you protect them? Kevin and Chuck were prophets!" Castiel squeezed hard and leaned in.

"We didn't feel a threat to them!" It was easy to know what Castiel spoke of, it only made sense. Camael's own guard had been there to see the damage but, with the bargain they held with Castiel not to interfere, they had done nothing to help Sam Winchester. "We would have…"

"Why didn't you protect her?" Castiel shouted.

Camael's steady gaze never wavered. "Why didn't you?"

As if his words had stung, Castiel let him go and backed off as Camael gasped and brushed his dirty fingers through his hair.

"What truly happened?" Camael asked, watching as Castiel turned away and looked up at the sky. "We felt such loss. We felt God."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel asked as he sank to his seat and buried his head in his hands. The muffled, monotone edge to his voice caught the captain's notice.

"Didn't you feel his loss, Castiel?" Camael's eyes turned heavenward. "We can't feel him or his Light anywhere, like we used to. We used to feel it all surrounding us, but now there is nothing."

"I didn't notice."

Camael stared. "How could you not? You're an angel, beloved by God."

"I never felt anything like this before." Castiel's eyes squeezed tightly shut. "It is loss but it is so much worse."

It didn't take the other angel much to guess who he was talking about. "The abom…. your daughter?" Camael asked gently. "Castiel, forgive me, we felt it as well underneath the loss of God. It was just as sharp a pain, feeling her removal. As if she was a light snuffed out."

Castiel didn't hear the sympathetic words. His mind was solely on what had happened and he wasn't sure how else to feel. "I should have protected her. All of them. I've lost her, lost Dean and Kevin, Sam…"

Nervous by how explosive the other angel was, Camael stared at his grieving brother. Grief was such a thing that angels struggled to understand. Eternity made it so moments like these were mere grains of sand in time to them and to see an angel like Castiel feel this way was strange. He didn't know what to do. Was there something he should be doing? Giving words of comfort? A touch?

He thought about how his brother had been in the past years. He had fought because he had had something to fight for. Without it, Camael knew that his brother could be on the verge of dangerous.

"What do you have left, Castiel? That can make you fight?"

The words were strange coming from such a young voice and Castiel lifted his head a little. Of all the angels, for Camael to be so serene sounded so strange. As if he was aware of what had happened but hoped for another outcome.

Camael was aware of his brother's piercing look but held it with a smile that didn't quite reflect in his eyes. Gently, he put his hands on Castiel's shoulders, feeling the anger still radiating from him.

"What would you have me do?" Camael asked.

The look that blazed in Castiel's eyes nearly made Camael regret those words.

* * *

Time had stood still as Castiel returned to Heaven in his blazing fury and urge to blame others. He'd left Chuck's house without a word to Meg or Sam, left the demon to care for the hunter in the sort of ironic situation that he would have chuckled over in the past. But all he had cared about was making a move. If he stopped to think about what had happened, he knew he would break further and it was a sight he hadn't wanted any to see.

Now, standing on the back steps, Castiel wanted to go in and find things all to rights somehow. Dean back and on the mend, Kevin arguing with Chuck, Sam catering to his brother and Meg with Nyx teaching her spells in demonic latin. He hadn't realized how much he had craved that side of strange normalcy until it was gone. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take deep and shaky breaths. He needed to help Sam and he needed…

He needed Meg. He needed her fire and her anger, her darkness that would somehow show him what to do. The demon had been so quiet, nearly unresponsive. Maybe she knew something, some trick she had shown Nyx to escape. Maybe the reason for her silence had been to figure out where their daughter had escaped to.

Maybe Meg could help him find a balance in the devastation of what had happened.

But she was gone when he went back into the house, leaving him alone with Sam. There was nothing else to do but stare around the kitchen and curse her. Dumbstruck with anger and grief, Castiel nearly launched himself after her and the obvious path she'd left in her dark trails of smoke and sulphur. The longer he looked at the trails, the more it calmed him down to see that she had left such a trail. For once, she wanted him to find her, he knew, and he wanted to follow. Even though he had seen the coldness that had slowly seeped into her as Sam had spoken, he knew with her he could find something to help him.

It was Sam that now worried him. Unable to heal him with Grace, he had to get him to a hospital and quick. Meg hadn't done much to the human, bound his wrists and legs with fabric to stop the bleeding, but that was it. It didn't surprise Castiel; her apparent friendship with Sam only had so much warmth within it.

When Castiel turned, he saw that Chuck was still lifeless against the door, his eyes accusingly on Castiel it seemed. The angel ignored the corpse. Time for that later, he knew and as he shrugged his shoulders he reassumed the nature of an angel.

Sam protested the way he lifted him up but Castiel grit his teeth and ignored him.

"I need to get to Dean," Sam whispered.

"No, Sam. You need help and I can't give it to you." Castiel ignored his further protests and picked him up into a fireman's hold.

"Cas, please."

"Enough," the angel snapped. "You're no good to anyone bleeding out or dead."

The neighbours must have called the police finally, because as Castiel slipped out the back door again, he heard the sirens. Meg's car that Sam had driven before was gone and he sighed in relief, knowing he could track her if he had to. Sam continued to complain, obviously becoming delirious from pain and fever, and Castiel quickly turned with the man in his arms. By the time the police began to nervously enter the ruined house, he was gone.

* * *

_Kansas…_

The hospital room was sterile and cold, compared to the heat that had happened inside of Chuck's house. The disorientating sight of the cold linoleum and fluorescents was enough to send Sam almost back to sleep but he fought against the lethargy setting in his muscles again. Exhausted, he blinked his eyes rapidly and through the start of a pounding headache, he became vaguely aware that he was strapped down.

"Stay still." Castiel's voice sounded like it was echoing and he had to strain to focus on it.

"Cas?"

In a blurry vision, the angel appeared over him. "I brought you to a hospital. They had to set your legs as best as they could and you are on medication."

"How long have I been here for? Why am I tied down?" Sam jerked and Castiel sighed, unbuckling the straps for him.

"It has been nearly a day. You were strapped down because you experienced another one of your episodes and this one turned incredibly violent." Castiel sat on the chair beside the bed. "I brought you here because I couldn't heal you."

Sam rolled a little, eyes almost crossing as he focussed on the wires coming from his IV and the oxygen tubes attached to his face. "They did a number on me, huh?"

"They did." Castiel's head was down. "They left you alive but just barely. There was some internal damage as well. I tried to heal you but that spell repelled me again when I tried too much Grace. It's frustrating that I couldn't heal you and I'm sorry."

"I know." Sam licked his dry lips and immediately his brain went to the thing he cared most about. "Dean! Did you find Dean?" Castiel's silence forced him to try to really see the angel clearly. "Cas, come on, answer me."

"I couldn't leave you but I asked the angels to help. It is as if he's fallen off the face of the planet." The angel rubbed at the back of his neck. "If he was possessed, it may be impossible to find him. Whoever is inside of him gets all the knowledge Dean has accumulated over the years. Ways to hide, where things have been locked away."

"I don't like it either, which is why we have to find him," Sam snapped, trying to push up off the bed. Castiel reached out and grasped his arm, pushing him back down.

"You need to calm down and rest."

Sam had his mouth open to argue when the door snapped open and a small, portly man made his way over to the bed. He beamed at them both, pleasantly bland and somehow suiting the white room to perfection. "I see we are awake. I'm Dr. Medei."

"How soon can I get out of here?" Sam demanded and even Castiel blinked at how abrupt he spoke. The doctor simply checked the charts and shrugged a shoulder.

"The breaks were very clean. They should heal quickly," the doctor continued in a calming monotone.

"How long?" Sam demanded. "How long do I have to wait?"

"Well it is a matter of…"

"How long!" he shouted and the doctor barely flinched, clearly used to outbursts.

"Six to twelve weeks, depending on your body." He didn't see Sam's face drop into an expression of hopelessness and he rooted through Sam's chart papers carefully. "There is the matter of your CT scan though. You had a series of what we think were epileptic seizures and your previous records show no sign of this, Mr. Plant."

Not for the first time, Sam cursed Dean's choice of names on their botched insurance forms.

"While you were out, your friend Steve here allowed us to do a CT Scan although he kept oddly insisting it wasn't necessary." Not seeing Castiel's annoyed look, the doctor put an X-ray in the lit box in the corner and began to gesture. "You are suffering from unusual activity in the occipital lobe but nothing truly conclusive. The neurologist on staff is very concerned as we've never seen a case like this before. We'd like to you keep you for some observation."

"That's not possible."

"I insist."

"No! I have to find my brother!" Sam shouted impatiently, slamming his hands on the thin mattress. The doctor opened his mouth to argue and Castiel stood up.

"Let me talk to him, please."

"Of course. Though I must say, Mr. Plant, that it is possible what you muttered while under medication," the doctor checked the observation notes, "about white lights and seeing a galaxy of stars, is a hallucination. Too much visual stimulation perhaps. You may have even hallucinated seeing your 'brother' in the first place, or he may be fine. But please feel free to discuss this. I need to speak with the nurse about medications."

He left with an unaffected smile, and Castiel waited until the door snapped shut before he turned to Sam.

"You need to be careful. If you draw more attention to yourself, I can't help you," he warned.

"Where's Meg?" Sam asked and he looked over at Castiel to see the angel staring at a spot on the wall. "Cas?"

"What happened to Nyx, Sam?"

The young man closed his eyes. He had hoped Castiel would ask him anything else but that. "I'm sorry, Cas. I just… I think I know and I'm sorry."

"With what happened, I can't blame you, Sam. You tried, you kept telling me how you tried." Castiel swallowed and looked at the monitors instead of Sam. "I've felt thousands of emotions, since I met you and Dean. I just never felt anything like this. Even when I chose to bury the memory of Meg and Nyx to hide them, I knew they were kept safe. They were still there."

Reluctantly, he looked down at his hands.

"Except now? There's no going back." His long fingers clenched into fists. "I wasn't there to protect her, to keep her safe, and I promised her I would."

Sam watched him take a seat on the chair again and he shoved an IV cord out of his way to turn as far as he could on the bed. "Cas, if there's any way."

"I need to see what happened. To understand why…"

The drugs were addling Sam but not so much that he would simply extend his hand to Castiel to get it over with. He watched him warily, eyes darting over the angel's face. Knowing what Castiel suffered through only made it worse to see him like this. Sam had depended on Castiel to remain strong and now neither of them would be of much use to the other like this.

"You think that would actually help you. Or make it worse?" he asked

The angel stood up, fixing his coat around him. "I need to find Meg, and see where Dean has gone. If I can save him…."

"Dean." Sam hesitated. "No, he's not Dean any more, is he?" Sam's eyes went to Castiel's and held his gaze. The angel sighed.

"No, he's not. When you're possessed, you're not what you once were. If Azazel and Michael are both with him, I'm not sure what they will do to him on the inside."

"Find him, Cas. I'll get out of here as fast as I can but I…"

It was a sign of Castiel's agitation, his anger, that he didn't wait for Sam to finish before he was gone. Sam rolled onto his back and raised his hand to his head. He had to block out the sound of the screams and the sound of Dean's voice for a little while. His other hand dropped to the call button for the nurse and he only hoped the drugs he was on would be strong enough.

* * *

_He was dreaming._

Had to be. The bunker was no longer this quiet. Not since before Castiel had brought Meg back into their lives, before Kevin had made it his home and angels and demons had taken notice. This place had an almost tomb-like feel to it now. His home had never been so calm and almost sedated, even at night.

"Sam?" Dean called out, tilting his head back to look at the upper levels. He couldn't see through the shadows but Sam should be working in the shelves. Getting books ready, spells at hand and maps drawn. They had to fight Eve.

_Didn't they? Where was everyone?_

Dean looked around the interior of the bunker, digging his hands into his back pockets as he circled slowly. It looked the same; shelves lined with books, weapons scattered over the table, his half-empty glass of whiskey and the smell of stale coffee and old paper. The pieces of his life were there. This was still home.

There was a low skipping sound, of a needle tripping over vinyl, and the familiar sound somehow didn't feel right. It felt like it should be somewhere else, with the way the static hummed and droned in an echoing effect. When he made another pass around the room on his search for Sam, Dean finally noticed the old player sitting in the middle of the table. It wasn't like him, or Sam, to leave a needle to scratch the delicate surface of a record, any more than it was like him to do something to the Impala to wreck its engine. Dean stared at the vinyl player on the table and reached over to fix the needle. Immediately it picked up, nudged by his fingers to a track, and the chords came on mid-way through the song.

" _That her face, at first just ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale."_

Staring at the record, Dean clenched his hand into a fist and knew that this was wrong. He was pretty sure he didn't own a Procol Harum album and maybe the song was giving him some sort of message. Wherever he was, it wasn't home. This wasn't his bunker, his brother wasn't waiting for him in the archives. There would be no Castiel to lecture him about using his time better, no Meg hurling insults, no Kevin with his snarky comments, or Nyx with her happy chatter. He was alone and he felt it acutely.

He rocked back on his heels and then turned when he heard the door swing open. Half-expecting Sam, he flung himself backwards in shock until he met the wall. Dressed like the day Dean had last seen him, John Winchester was crossing the floor with a swagger that Dean as a child had always imitated. He had that wry grin, though his craggy features were relieved by it, that he had had whenever he met his sons.

"Dad?"

"Hey, kiddo." John took a seat at the table and clasped his hands on his knees. "Heard you were up to trouble."

Dean looked around, puzzled by his father's reappearance. "I'm dead. Nah, I'm not. I can't be."

"You might be." John tipped his head forward to look at his scuffed boots. "Would explain 'A Whiter Shade of Pale'."

"No… no, that's not possible."

"Come on, Dean, let's go have that drink. We'll talk about what you think you did wrong."

Shaking his head, Dean stared in confusion at his hands. "I was supposed to do something."

Something flickered before him and his father disappeared like a video's distortion. Now Anna stood in his place and before he could move back in surprise her hands grasped his. Her pale skin was glowing in the low light, her eyes bright and sad, but there was strength in her grip.

_"Wake up, Dean. You promised. Don't give up yet."_

She was gone in the next instant and replaced by his father once again.

"You want to tell me why you let that angel and demon start that kinda crap in your life? Because I mean, I get it, you felt responsible and all," he asked and Dean stared at him. John almost looked forgiving and Dean was pretty sure that the last thing his father would do would be so understanding about Dean not killing Meg after what she had done in the past.

"You're not real."

"Really?" John's grin turned conniving. "Then who am I? Come on, Winchester boy. Who am I?"

"Azazel," Dean breathed. Before he could dodge, the demon launched forward and snatched him by the throat, lifting him into the wall behind him.

"Smart boy. Daddy would be so proud."

"Why are you doing this?" Dean whispered and Azazel rolled his eyes around as if thinking it over.

"Well, I don't know. Revenge, that's not a good enough reason?" He squeezed hard. "I was content where I was. I was… I was being reborn, remade. And half way through, some grace launched by me and a goddess grabbed me, tied me up to this stinking angel. So God could see what a creation like that could cause."

He squeezed even harder on Dean's throat until he choked for air. "I was dead, Dean, and because of that angel and all the rest of you, I was brought back! Partially remade, partially healed. Half-whole."

He dropped the other man to the floor.

"Do you have any idea what that's like?" Azazel turned away and his face shifted to a younger version of John Winchester. Instead of the snide silkiness, now there was a slight monotone, somehow more threatening with its quiet pitch.

"We're all half of what we were." Michael's voice was more serious than Azazel's and Dean watched the change that had overcome him, seeing it in the way the angel held himself. His body seemed to be straighter, his shoulders thrown back as if to assume a soldier's pose. He gave Dean an almost sympathetic frown. "We can help each other, Dean. You know we can. It's why you said yes, after all these years."

"Don't kid yourself." Dean leaned his head back on the pillar. "I did it to save them. If you're looking for sympathy, you aren't getting it from me."

Michael turned toward him. "And you did so well. Did you remember hearing their screams? Your brother? The prophet when he was blinded?" His eyes never wavered from Dean's face. "The little girl?"

Dean looked at the floor and shut his eyes.

"You do, don't you?" Michael leaned close so his breath brushed Dean's ear. "You were going to protect them, remember?"

Over Michael's shoulder, Dean saw, crouched on the steps leading down, Anna again, this time beside a large black man with just a strong a glow to him as Anna had. She looked up at the angel beside him, then back at him, and she smiled.

_It's okay, Dean, we won't leave you alone with him._

That Michael and Azazel didn't seem to see these angels meant that they were hiding from him, somehow in the depths of Dean's own mind. Maybe, he thought, it was an afterblow from Nyx and her healing. Gasping for air, he shut his eyes, and lowered his head again.

"Leave me alone," he whispered.

"You're stuck with me now, Dean," Michael whispered. "I owe you, so much, for what happened. You think I'll let you stay in comfort? Don't be naive."

He was gone, leaving Dean alone. The bunker swirled, brick and wood flying around in a whirlwind, and then reforming around him into a dark cell with only a small shaft of light from under a door. Dean drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead against them.

* * *

_Kansas…_

Meg drove without any real aim as to where she was headed. Setting the car into motion had been easy; a simple twist of the key and changing gear, and she'd left Chuck's house behind. The little voice in her that warned her she should wait for Castiel to come back had been one that she'd ignored. She knew what she wanted to do.

It was time to lie low.

Driving by herself was suddenly strange again. Now and then, she'd check in her rearview mirror and when no one looked back at her, when no one asked thousands of questions of where they were going and why the trees lined the roads like that or why it was still snowing, she forced herself to look back at the front. The surprising sense of loneliness brought with it a dull ache she wasn't sure she could understand yet.

Even stopping for gas was something she did without thinking. Without any money, she had to steal what she could, once even resorting to distracting the gas clerk by blowing up his generator so she could pilfer some liquor and a hunting knife from behind the counter. She still had an angel sword, kept close as ever, but she'd done stolen the hunting just to steal. In the confusion she was driving off, accelerating heavily just to feel the car's jerk forward and the steady hum as it roared down the back roads.

She wasn't even certain how long she had been driving when the exhaustion of running away suddenly caught up with her. The open window tossed sleet and snow into her car but she welcomed the icy blast. It numbed her face just enough, let her feel the fire of it when the salty mixture lingered on her skin, and then the cold trails of the melting snow down her shirt. Meg ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back behind her ears as she watched the sunset again through the drifting snow.

Her aching muscles let her know that she might be a demon but she needed to get out of the cramped confines of her old Cougar.

"Lot of good being a demon does me," she muttered as she pulled off the highway towards a small roadside bar. "Could have just blipped in and out but no, had to drive. Right, kid?"

She lifted her eyes to the mirror and saw the empty seat behind her.

"Damn."

As she braked her car and put it in park, further out from the diner, Meg slid her hands down the wheel and stared at the bloodstained fingertips. Just a few days ago she'd been in a small war. Now she was running away again and was looking worse than she had in weeks. She smelled like smoke and sulphur, the blood on her clothing leaving her with a meaty smell that once she would have revelled in but suddenly felt a revulsion for.

Again her eyes darted to the mirror and in the next moment she grabbed it and wrenched it off, tossing it into the passenger seat. Calming herself down, she sucked in deep lungfuls of stale air and tossed her battered jacket into the backseat. It took some fishing around to find a spare shirt she knew she had stashed in a bag, a plain white mens shirt that would fall almost to her knees. As she yanked it over her head, she debated on driving on.

Meg shook her head. No. She needed a drink and to get out of this car. Automatically, she checked the backseat and cursed herself for doing it.

* * *

Camael crouched in the snow across the parking lot, desperately wishing he could use corporeal wings to shield himself from the wind. When he'd agreed to watch over her for Castiel, he hadn't expected the demon to be so… so…

_Boring._

Forced to cajole another of his vessel's bloodline, he'd gone for an older man this time in denim and leathers. Rustic enough to suit the area if he had to do anything and plain enough he'd go unnoticed. The other angels watching Meg had stayed in the shadows as much as he had. An entire Legion of Heaven's soldiers was watching a demon and if that didn't mean that perhaps they had lost their way, he wasn't sure what did. They had wanted to mourn and Castiel had managed to convince them with just a few words to watch over his charges. Another Legion watched over Sam Winchester and a third was looking for Eve.

Castiel hadn't realized that Camael had also set out two other groups of angels against his orders. One to watch over his brother, the other to search for the creatures that had attacked his daughter. Having seen his brother's reaction, his emotion, to the child's apparent death, had struck chords in the old guardian of Eden. Had touched on emotions he had not felt even as a human.

Camael had his own thoughts on that, having spent so much time watching Castiel, but he kept them to himself and merely ordered the confused angels to keep a sharp eye for anything unusual. If anyone could find a sign, it would be them.

Still, the demon was so boring to him. While Castiel's grief had been so forceful, hers seemed almost non-existent. _What did you expect from a Hellspawn?_ Camael thought to himself and then dismissed it. There must be something there for Castiel to want her.

When she finally left the car, bare-armed in a white shirt that fell to her knees to hide the torn jeans, Camael slipped into step behind her. He wasn't sure she sensed him but Castiel had insisted she needed protection. He just hadn't said from whom and Camael had the suspicion it was from herself.

* * *

Meg knew an angel was following her. It wasn't hard to figure out that there was one, but she didn't feel that prickle up her spine that Castiel always brought. Without thinking, her hand went to her necklace and toyed with the small silver charm before shrugging. Whoever was following her she didn't care about.

She just wanted a drink.

The bar had enough rowdies to mean she might go unnoticed, a small slip of a woman to their eyes in battered clothing. Taking a corner table, she eyed the people around the bar but to her they were all the same. Just people she didn't care about. Even the waitress, who gave her a concerned 'you okay, hun?' she barely saw. She knew how she looked and when she ordered two glasses of bourbon, the girl slipped away at how gravelly her voice was.

Meg only abandoned the table long enough to go to the dirty bathroom and look at herself in the mirror. Her skin was splotchy with soot and blood, and baring her teeth she scrubbed at herself until the bruises were revealed beneath the grime. Until she was less exhausted, she'd be slow to heal. Gingerly, she looked at the gouge in her side and saw the flesh had knitted over.

"Bet you're glad you're not in this body anymore, Cheboygan, you'd be pissed at the beating you took," she muttered.

Thankfully her drinks were waiting for her when she finally came back out, her skin clean and hair damp and lying in thick waves over her shoulder. She knew she was attracting looks in the mostly male bar but ignored them, trying to covertly figure out where that angel had gone. Nothing around here though smacked of holy righteousness.

She would have known if Castiel had been the one to follow her.

The first shot went down hot and choking, the second smoother and settling in her stomach with a delicious burn. The waitress automatically replaced the drinks for her and Meg set about drinking herself into a quiet stupor. It would take most of the alcohol in this place to do it, but at least she could get a head start on it. Slumping over, she rested her chin in her hand and looked outside.

" _Don't want to go."_

" _We'll come as soon as we can. You be safe and we'll come find you."_

" _Promise?"_

" _You know it, monster."_

In self-disgust, Meg dug her other hand into her thigh to pinch the skin, reminding herself not to get lost in remembering what wasn't real any longer. What was the point anyway? She was a demon, she recovered faster than this. She had no reason to wallow like this.

_Nyx._

Meg had never had something, someone, love her from the beginning so totally, and to lose that hurt and stung more than she had expected. She knew what she was feeling was grief and in her desperation not to feel it, she was willing to go numb. It had only been days but it was strange how she felt.

It was as if her shadow was suddenly gone.

Starting on another round, Meg ignored the stares and the conversations that became louder and louder as if to attract her attention. The need gnawing at her to just rest and not think was strong. Maybe if she lost herself enough, it would all fix itself for once without her having to do anything.

Meg really doubted that.

She had a glass lifted to her lips when she heard the dry "well, well, well" from close by. A man's voice but not one she recognized, so she didn't bother to turn. Only when a beefy hand slapped down on the table by her own did she look up to see a heavy-set demon staring at her.

"Meg. Never thought to see you out here."

She squinted, not recognizing him, and then looked away. "Get lost."

"That's not polite. You're in our area where we're workin'." He dropped into the chair across from her and grinned, showing dark gaps where teeth should be. "You don't remember me, do you? Bates." When she didn't answer, he scooted his chair closer and leaned across. "Rumour mill is a-flying. Azazel bein' back and all. Abaddon's all one big happy kitty with him back after he put her in her place. Crowley's crawlin' around on his belly like a lizard to keep out of his way."

Eyes on the demon, Meg leaned back and picked up her glass again. "You do have a point, right?"

"He'll be after you next, rumour has it. Doesn't take kindly to you shacking up with an angel like you did. " Bates shrugged. "Could have forgiven it if you gave that kid to our side like you should have."

Meg's fingers tightened around the glass. "Shut up."

"He was all thrilled when he got her killed. Been crowin' about it all over the blood network. All about how he took something Heaven would have killed for and destroyed it."

Meg looked away out the window and saw in the reflection that several more demons were standing close by. "Great," she muttered, glad she had strapped her weapons to herself before coming in.

Sensing weakness, Bates leaned across the table. "How's it feel to know you're goin' to Hell again to lie on the rack? This time for eternity."

"Like you care," she muttered, drawing a happy face in the window's condensation.

"You used to be a fighter, Meg," Bates said, all disappointed since she refused to answer him. The demon sighed and looked at her glass before downing the rest of it. "He said you'd come to him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he did." Meg's eyes were on the happy face again.

"I'm gonna ask Azazel all about how that little girl died. Couldn't have been that special if it was easy like that." Bates' grin twisted as he knew he had hit a nerve when Meg's fingers raked down the face she'd drawn. "Bet she screamed."

Meg finally turned towards him. "You think so?"

Before he could dart out of the way, she launched forward and sank the angel sword into his chest, just missing his heart. He screamed out in agony, staring at her, and though the bar went silent Meg went down with him. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she gave him a wild smile.

"I think you'll scream louder," Meg murmured as she straddled him and twisted the sword, ignoring the spurt of blood on her hands as he screamed when his heart was pierced. Orange light and sparks lit him up for a second and then the body was empty of anything demonic. Disgusted, Meg slapped his face and jerked the sword out of his chest. Her head lifted as she heard a pool cue clatter to the floor. The five demons were staring at her, open mouthed, and the humans that claimed this bar as theirs were wide-eyed and backing off.

"Anyone else want to try me?" she asked as she pushed up, her eyes clicking to black. The numbness in her suddenly felt good and somehow more honest now that she had blood staining her hands again. "Because now's the time."

The demons charged for her as the humans almost crawled over each other to get out of Meg's way. Ducking the first blow, she sliced her way through a second demon and spun only to catch a fist to her jaw. She grunted and slammed her knee into the demon's stomach, not caring that her face was cut by a hunting knife. Teeth grinding, she grappled with the hold of the one demon and went to her knees as the second one launched his hand out to stab her. The knife went into the stomach of the demon she was holding onto and it howled, trying to grab her arm.

Meg stabbed upwards into his jaw, saw the orange flicker through his body, and jerked the angel sword out of the demon, whipping it around so its blade was down on her wrist.

Unexpectedly, a large trucker grabbed her from behind. "Easy! No need for…"

Meg slammed her head back into his face and he howled as she broke his nose easily. Lifting her heel, she stabbed it back into his groin and he went down with a cry. Growling to herself about humans, she knelt down on his chest and raised the angel sword.

"I don't know what beef you got with these guys!" he shrieked, holding his hands upward in pleading. "Leave me…leave me.…"

Meg punched her fist into his jaw and felt the bone shatter from it. As he managed a garbled scream, she stabbed the angel sword into the floorboard by his head so that it just neatly nicked his earlobe. "Get the fuck out of here," she warned.

He dragged himself from under her, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, and she watched him leave before she turned away from the exit. The demons facing her had recovered and were standing in formation, waiting for her. After wiping the blood from her lower lip, she raised her hand and concentrated. Her power rushed out of her in hot waves, igniting the liquor in the bottles and setting the bar on fire. The demons nervously looked at one another, then at her, hands tightening around knives as they realized that Meg stood between them and the only exit left.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, black eyes glinting furiously in the crackling light. "An invitation? Come on."

* * *

Camael watched the humans race out of the building as if the devil was on their heels. He had stayed in the shadows and followed the injured bystanders outside, wanting to heal them. The smell of smoke had stopped him though and he had turned, finally coming into full sight to watch as the bar was set on fire from the inside. A demon came flying through the window and Camuel stared at him as he landed at his feet. The demon was cut badly from navel to neck and the angel watched him struggle to stand.

The demon knew what he was facing the second he really looked at the angel. "Me-me..mercy!" he shouted, voice garbled from the damage done to his face. Without changing expression, Camael reached out and smote him with a touch, casually brushing the demon to the side so he fell to the ground.

The sound of the fight was intensifying and he fisted his hands at his side, ready to go in to put a stop to it. What the humans had just seen could cause enough damage and he knew that the demon wouldn't rest until the entire bar was destroyed, no matter who was left in it. The heat from the fire was incredible and he raised a hand when he saw a blur of darkness inside. The shouting and the sounds of fighting were so loud to him, and he knew what he had to do.

But before he took a step to fly in, a hand went to his shoulder and held him still. Startled, he glanced over to see a weary looking Castiel, still battle-worn and ragged, staring at the bar. Camael lowered his hand and stepped aside, nodding to him.

Castiel watched him go before turning back to the burning bar. The doorway had collapsed in and smoke was pouring out of the windows, and the fire highlighted her small body as it licked up the building from the inside out. Meg was walking through the flames with her dark hair singeing at the tips and her shirt stained with soot and blood. Castiel swallowed down the lump in his throat, surprised at what the sight of her looking so vengeful and deadly did to his insides. Yet it was the way her eyes swooped over the parking lot with a sort of impassive hunger for destruction that worried him.

When her eyes finally came to Castiel, he held himself still and waited for her. The demon's hungry look slowly gave way to a solemn expression by the time she finally came to a stop before him.

"You found me," she said and he watched her tilt her head back up to look at him. There were long knife scratches on her arms and neck and he reached out automatically, not caring how she flinched when he touched the fresh gouges.

"I never lost you," he admitted and they ignored the burning building to stare at one another. Meg's eyes narrowed and then her face relaxed when she saw he wasn't angry with her.

"Not… not gonna pull the righteous angel thing on me for what I just did?"

He sighed and looked over at the bar. Meg stepped into him and he slid his hand down her back to draw her even closer. "No. I don't want to."

His mouth brushed her temple as he turned back. "You ran from me."

Meg's eyes closed. "How else do I deal, Cas? I'm a demon. I do what I know."

He closed his own eyes and took a breath, smelling the thick smoke and burning wood. "I know. Come with me. You can come back for your car."

"Where are we going?" Meg adjusted herself under the hold he had on her, and Castiel felt her tension in the rock hard way her muscles clenched.

"For answers." He opened his eyes again and stared at the building, seeing angels standing on the outskirts of the parking lot. He twisted with the demon to block her view when she went to move. "Ones we both need."

She was going to argue with him, he knew, so he simply clamped his hand down more firmly on hers and flew them away from the bar.

* * *

The hospital at night was nearly deserted, and a few proper applications of power meant that Castiel was able to send most of the people from around Sam's room looking for other things to do. He needed time and he didn't want humans to suddenly barge in and disturb everything. With Meg already eager for a fight, he didn't like to think of the damage she could do if a nurse fell on her bad side.

As he opened the door to Sam's room, he took a moment to really look at him, and he heard Meg's slight intake of breath to show her surprise. Since Castiel had left him to search for Meg, his recovery now depended solely on what the doctors could do for him. The hunter was dealing with infections and medications made him woozy enough for him not to protest being kept in the hospital. As infuriating as it was for Castiel to see him lying there, at least he was safe.

Only he wasn't sleeping. His head turned abruptly on the pillow to face the angel and demon and astonishingly his eyes were clear.

"Meg," he jerked and tried to sit up, "I…I was wondering when Cas would find you."

Her eyes darted to Castiel and the angel shrugged. "He's been in a lot of pain but I've tried to keep in touch."

"I'm not that out of it," Sam grumbled while pressing the button so his bed sat him up. Meg stood at the end of his bed, one hip cocked as if to show how ready to leave she was. "I figured you'd be back with her eventually since I know what you want to do."

"Do you?" Castiel had moved to his side and stood with his hands just touching the bed's rail. Sam nodded and took a deep breath.

"And if I said I wasn't strong enough, would it matter?"

"No."

Meg glanced at Castiel in surprise, because of the two Winchesters he was often gentler with Sam, treating him with nearly unshakeable respect because of Sam's almost too forgiving nature when it came to him. But when she noticed the tension in Castiel's face, Meg saw that something else had overcome that caring side to Castiel when it came to his friends. Instead of that friendship she was seeing something she hadn't seen since their first meeting, when Castiel had threatened to burn her out of her meatsuit. Everything in him was tight and furious, as if he had lost that softer edge and once again become a weapon of Heaven.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, Meg shuddered and focussed back on Sam.

"All right." Sam seemed to prepare himself by taking in a deep breath. "Do it. Before I have second thoughts."

Castiel reached for Meg's hand and she jerked it away in surprise at his hot touch. Misinterpreting why she backed away, he flinched himself and dropped his own hand. They stared each other down and then he held out his hand again.

"Come here," he ordered instead and abruptly she closed the distance until she was beside him. He dropped his hand away and looked down at Sam.

"This will hurt," he warned him. "But we won't stay long."

"I know you guys aren't doing it to hurt me this time. Do it," the young man said, every note in his voice tired and defeated. Castiel reached out and put his palm flat on his forehead before he looked at Meg. The demon looked at Sam and back up at him.

"What are we doing?" she hissed.

"We need to do this," he countered and before she could dodge him he lifted his hand and pressed it to her forehead. There was a sucking sensation, like being pulled apart from the inside out, and Meg gasped. She looked up at Castiel to see his eyes glowing a bright blue, too bright for her to focus on, and she shut her own to keep from being blinded by the light.

* * *

_When she reopened her eyes, they were in a living room stacked with old furniture and books. Sam was nowhere to be seen and it was as if they had gone back in time. Fascinated, Meg went to move but Castiel's grip on her hand tightened._

" _We are only in a memory," he warned when they heard voices in the next room. "Sam's letting us do this."_

_Before she could answer, he let her go and walked off, leaving her alone in a room that smelled of old cigarettes and alcohol. It was familiar. She remembered it from a time when she had been desperate for answers and a prophet had been unable to give them to her. But the colouring of her surroundings was strange; to her it was as if someone had washed it all out until it was monochromatic and she knew that Castiel had been telling the truth. Even time felt slow and lazy here, the air oppressive and thick with a tension she didn't understand._

" _I'm in Sam's head. Not the first time but I could have done without the repeat," she muttered as she followed Castiel into the kitchen that was loud with screams and cursing._

_Dean was sprawled on a table, weakly struggling as Sam sewed up his wounds. Nyx stood at his head, cuddling him and whispering to him, and Meg made a low sound, stepping back. Castiel was there behind her and she felt his hand go around hers. "We can't do anything," he said. "It's a memory, remember?"_

_She nodded and they both heard the knock and Chuck's greeting muffled by the distance. But like Castiel, her eyes were only for the scene on the table before them. Nyx's fingers were glowing as she stroked Dean's hair and whispered that he had to get better, while Sam was whispering encouragement to her to help his brother feel better._

" _So how did this all change?" Meg asked aloud, not expecting an answer._

_The room suddenly erupted into chaos as several large, well muscled men stormed in. They bared fangs, black veins standing out on their skin to show that they were of the infected, and their shadowy faces seemed to pull from vampire to something far worse. It only took a moment before Sam shouted and launched himself at one and was thrown to the side as if he were a small pest._

" _Nyx, get under the table!" Dean ordered, struggling to roll off himself with his twisted leg just as Sam was tossed through the air. Nyx immediately ran to do what Dean told her, covering herself with the table cloth. Castiel jerked forward on instinct but his hand went through a monster's shoulder. Meg grabbed his hand to hold him steady as he forgot his own warning. Dean snatched up a broken chair leg and slammed it against a vampire's skull to knock him down. "Get the fuck away from my brother."_

_The vampire batted him off with a casual swipe and sent him crashing into the cupboards, the sewn wound ripping open. Clutching his broken leg, Dean choked in surprise and Kevin leapt at the vampire next, grabbing his knife and slamming it into the vampire's throat. The vampire growled and a second turned for the prophet. Kevin was picked off and tossed to the side by the table so hard his head made an audible crack against the wood, and Sam fought alone, trying to protect Dean as one of the vampires made his way over. The vampires were all transformed by darkness inside of them, so their faces were identically grotesque and marred by the infection, but unlike the others this one was focussed on his work. Dean looked up at his face and his eyes widened, as the vampire put a foot on his other leg._

" _Stay down," he ordered huskily, gleaming blue eyes showing through the infected veins pulsing on his face._

_Another vampire, the one wrestling with Sam, put the hunter into a half-nelson and held him face down on the floor as Chuck was backed into the room, his hands in the air passively._

" _Look, buddy, I don't know who you are," he said, stumbling towards the kitchen table. Through the door was Azazel, still in Adam Milligan's body but his once young face suddenly seemed old by the power inside of him. "We don't want trouble."_

" _That's a shame." Yellow eyes flicked to Dean and Sam. "Hello, boys. You missed me, I hope."_

_Dean clutched at his twisted leg and didn't answer, too in pain to get his mouth working. But his eyes left the vampire standing over him to where Nyx hid, her eyes big as she stared back at him._

" _Let's see here. I have two prophets, two hunters, and…" Azazel paused and flipped the table over, breaking it in two. Nyx stared up at him and he crouched before her, smirking. "One pesky little Creation."_

" _Nyx, get away from him," Dean warned and the vampire over him moved to block the doorway._

" _Nyx? So that really is your name." Azazel's yellow eyes became troubled. "Appropriate."_

" _Nyx, do what Dean said," Kevin warned, cradling his face with one hand._

" _But she can't, can she?" Azazel stroked Nyx's dark hair with fatherly but menacing touches. "She's her mother's daughter, after all, and she recognizes me. Knows me. Knows there's no getting away."_

_Nyx's blue eyes were on his, almost hypnotized. "Monster."_

_He smirked. "I'm what she made me. Like you are what your parents made you." He grasped her tiny face in his hand and his grip tightened until she squirmed. "I'm wondering what it would cost to try to kill you, little girl. You are so very special."_

" _Leave her alone," Kevin snapped, getting to his feet before a vampire could stop him and launching himself at Azazel. The demon hissed, letting Nyx go when Kevin's fist met his jaw, and Kevin leapt off, made lucky by how fast he had moved. He snatched Nyx up into his arms and retreated beside Dean, crouching down. Dean weakly reached out for her small hand._

_Watching, Castiel was aware of Meg's fingers entwining with his own more tightly._

" _This was your big plan, wasn't it? Had nothing to do with Eve," Sam snapped as the vampire holding him jerked him upright. The pair standing guard at the door had their backs to them now, on the look out for anyone about to storm in. "Get Meg and Cas out of the way."_

" _They were my biggest threats. But I just can't resist a bit of nostalgia, you know?" Azazel moved towards Dean and ignored how Kevin pulled Nyx away to protect her. Dean weakly looked back at Yellow-Eyes as he knelt beside him. "Right, Dean? You remember this from the last time. You, nearly dead, me about to kill you?" His grin bordered on feral. "Your Daddy won't save you this time either. He's long since locked away, forgotten all about you, I bet. But me? I never forgot what your family cost me."_

_Dean coughed. "You're insane."_

" _Yeah." Azazel seemed to think it over. "Yeah, I suppose I am."_

_He reached out and his hand caught Dean's broken leg. With slow precision, he began to twist the limb and Dean sank his teeth into his lip, head thrown back as he tried not to scream. "Insane or not, this is fun, isn't it, boy?"_

" _Dean!" Sam shouted as he heard the choking whimper escape his brother's lips._

_Azazel rolled his eyes. "Still with the brotherly devotion, I see." He looked at Nyx again. "Though your little family is expanding, judging by the prophet and the girl."_

" _Leave them alone."_

" _Why?" Azazel leapt off Dean and shooed the vampire away from Sam before he knelt over him. Behind him, Chuck nervously edged away from a vampire and he plucked Sam's demon knife off the floor, hiding it in his bathrobe sleeve. "At first I was going to leave it at my message for Meg but this… this is such fun."_

_Sam screamed as Azazel grasped his leg and wrenched hard to the left so his right leg was twisted out of joint._

" _Sammy!"_

" _See, that was what everyone always forgot around you two. Get one, twist just right." He wrenched hard on the other leg and the snap of bone was loud. "And the other will break apart. So what do we do?" There was another snap and Sam's scream became whimpering grunts. "We twist."_

_Castiel closed his eyes at the sight but Meg's never left Azazel._

_Nyx buried her face in Kevin's shoulder to hide and Dean whispered Sam's name as his brother was kicked back and Azazel followed. He ran his hand up and down Sam's leg, twisting now and again just to hear the breaking bones crack further._

" _And nothing hurts precious Dean Winchester more than his baby brother in pain."_

" _Sam," Dean whispered and his brother opened his eyes. He shook his head and looked at Nyx and Kevin, both more defenceless than they were._

_Azazel stood up and cracked his neck again, wincing. "All I ever wanted was a way in to the Lethe in the beginning. Then I remembered what I really was. Even with this angel tagging along inside, the planning was too fun to ignore all of you. I only regret that Castiel didn't bring Meg back here with you, Dean. I had counted on him wanting her safe with their brat, not leaving her there to finish up."_

_Castiel protectively moved closer to Meg even though it was a memory, not reality._

" _Oh well. I'm adaptable." Azazel moved towards Kevin and Nyx. "This won't hurt a bit. Might wake up Michael but he won't be that pissed about the girl. The prophet's still just instinct."_

" _Michael," both Dean and Chuck whispered but it was Dean whose voice carried through the kitchen. "Michael!"_

" _That wasn't an invitation, Dean," Azazel rumbled. "Maybe he doesn't want to see you."_

" _I want to see Michael," Dean repeated and the shift that came over Azazel was visible. His face became younger, with his eyes bright and nearly human._

" _Dean." The voice had that stony coldness of that time years ago but he also sounded exhausted. "I wondered when you would catch on."_

" _Don't do this. You're an angel, for God's sake!" Sam snapped for his brother and, in control of the body now, Michael crouched before him. He clicked his tongue several times as if disappointed in Sam._

" _Do you know what it is to be an angel? To love your Father and want to be so good, to follow his Word to the letter, that you'd willingly give up your brother? To watch it all go to Hell and you are locked away in darkness when he refuses to interfere to save his own sons? Imagine how it was, Sam, when I figured out that my Father left me to die at the hands of his other favourite son. He let me die, because of Castiel and that-" he pointed at Nyx, "thing."_

_When Sam cursed, he reached out to grasp him by his hair. "It would be merciful of me to kill you, Sam. That way you won't see what will happen in the end."_

" _Leave him alone," Dean said, voice bubbling a little as he spat a mouthful of blood to the ground._

" _What will you give me if I do?" Michael sounded bored. "You've nothing of value, Dean."_

" _Just your true Vessel. Your body will eventually decay. You can't do everything you need to without me."_

_The words caught Sam and Michael's attention and Sam jerked his head out of Michael's grasp. "Dean, no."_

" _But I want your word you won't kill Sam, or hurt Kevin and Nyx."_

_Michael sneered, looking at Nyx as he stood up._

" _Bet you can feel that that body won't hold you forever. And maybe you'll get out of that deal you have with Azazel at it. Be free. What angel sticks with a demon, right?" Dean asked._

" _You're willing to give up just to save your brother." Michael darted over to Dean and pressed close. "How like you, Dean. Why the abomination though?"_

_Dean's eyes went to Nyx and seemed to see something besides her. Then he looked back at Michael._

" _Scared you won't keep control, huh?"_

_Michael hissed like a snake. "You took my brother from me, the only person left that I loved besides Him. Maybe it is only fair I take you from your brother."_

" _Dean, don't," Sam warned and Dean looked at him. Whatever thought shared between them made Sam scream his name as Michael grabbed his brother by the throat._

" _Say the words, Dean. Will you take me? Willingly?"_

" _Yes," Dean whispered through the choking hold and Michael's mouth opened just inches away from his. The room suddenly rumbled, shaking pots and pans onto the ground with clattering crashes, and the room filled with light. Glass shattered and flung shards through the air, while the radio and television turned with loud white noise. Grace flooded out of the man, bringing with it a rushing angry sound like a roar, and into Dean, turning his eyes clear white. Lifted by energy, he was pinned back against the wall and his body shook as he took on Michael's altered Grace. As the light died, he fell back down to the floor and exhaled as if it was his last breath._

_In Kevin's arms, Nyx turned her face away from the sight and Meg saw the tears spilling down her cheeks._

" _Nyx," she whispered but the little girl couldn't hear her. Castiel drew her back as he saw Chuck moving, but on the floor Dean was still, his eyes staring at the ceiling._

_Adam Milligan's body did a twist in the air and resettled on his feet, followed by a hissing sound. Yellow eyes opened to look down at Dean._

" _We're not together, Michael. I'm all sorts of lonely now," he murmured. Dean's body arched and he took a sudden deep breath. The ripped skin over his heart was shining as it healed, the skin no longer tattooed, while the leg fixed itself under the Grace, crunching as bones reset._

" _Free at last," Azazel murmured and his eyes settled on Nyx again. Kevin saw the look and drew back, bumping into a vampire who held him in one place. Nyx slid down from his arms and he whispered for her to run, but she was still. Azazel made only a few steps before he stopped and gave the floor a funny look, a short bark of laughter coming from his throat. He choked out a burst of smoke, eyes bulging a little. "No. I was free. I was free, damn it!"_

_Dean's glowing eyes focussed on his back, and in the other body Azazel's soul was ripped out, snared by the ties that bound him and Michael together. Demon and angel screamed together as their souls were entwined again in a flash of light that sent the body they'd been riding to the ground and this time Dean took both of them. He dropped to his knees and from where he stood, Chuck slipped a few feet outwards him._

" _Dean?" Sam whispered as he listened to the low rattling breaths his brother was taking._

_Dean's face twisted a little in pain and he looked at him. "I'm sorry, Sam," he answered, head still bent, and then the green flicker in his eyes was gone, leaving his gaze lifeless and cold._

_Behind him, Chuck finally stepped out. "Michael."_

_Dean's body did a jerk and he twisted. There was a firmness now in the set of his shoulders, like a soldier standing at attention, and Castiel knew that it was Michael now in charge of him. Michael turned his head towards Chuck and Castiel frowned as he saw the awareness in his eyes._

" _I know you." Michael's voice resonated from Dean, deepening it impossibly. He looked at Chuck. "I know you."_

" _Yes, you do. I'm the reason you're so angry. But you don't have to do this." Having lost the weak look he always wore, Chuck held his hand out and knelt beside him, touching his jaw. "You know I'm telling you the truth. You can still come back to what you once were."_

" _There's no going back."_

" _Dean, don't do this," Sam whispered but Michael turned the face he now wore to the youngest Winchester._

" _He's gone, Sam!" He grinned. "Like my brother. Caged. See how it feels?"_

" _Michael. You and Lucifer were favourite sons but things needed to change. You took what you were told so literally, leaving no room for choice." Chuck's voice was low and instead of insipid cynicism, Meg and Castiel could both see the love in his eyes. He seemed to assume a personality very different from what they knew. "Life cannot continue as it was."_

" _Father," Michael's use of Dean's voice took on an almost boyish tone, "how could you have left me? You left me. First in Heaven, then in the Cage."_

_Chuck reached out and stroked his face._

" _Because you needed each other but you both forgot to forgive. Even when you were in the Lethe, I thought, hoped, that you could learn to heal. To be happy there. I was wrong. I'm sorry."_

_Out of Dean's throat there was a weary sob and his head rested against Chuck's chest like a child seeking comfort. Chuck wrapped his arms around Michael and sighed. "I left all these years to be happy in my creation but I never wanted you all to suffer like this."_

_Meg felt Castiel's grip tighten on her hand but didn't understand. Castiel's breathing grew shallow and he longed to move forward. Realization stunned him as to who Chuck could have been._

" _But I can't let you hurt the Winchesters or the prophet. Or the girl."_

" _You don't have a choice," Michael whispered against his chest and Chuck sighed, the knife now in his hand turning._

" _We always have a choice." His eyes were on Nyx and Kevin. "We just have to be brave enough to make it."_

_He stabbed the knife down but before it connected with his back, Michael's arm came slicing up to block it. Using his own momentum, he drove Chuck upwards into the back door. The smaller man made a chortling sound, startled by the arm around his throat._

" _Oh, Daddy." It sounded like Azazel but only Castiel knew that it was Michael. "You know how to make a son feel wanted."_

_He took the knife out of his hand and tossed it to the counter. Shaking his hand, a silver sword appeared and Castiel made a sound, recognizing an archangel's blade._

" _You would kill your eldest just to let some abomination live. What kind of Father are you?" Michael asked._

" _I should have ended this years ago." Chuck wasn't fighting him. Instead, he almost appeared serenely content with what he had done and what he knew was coming. His placid tone and smile infuriated the angel more. "Even though I had hoped for you to learn the nature of choice."_

" _A bit late for regrets," Michael agreed and he leaned close. "But don't worry. I am choosing to do this. I don't care why you let Castiel have such power, why you favoured him. I just have this moment, after centuries waiting for you to give me some sign of your love, and I find myself not wanting to savour it."_

_He slashed the blade across Chuck's throat, just under the jaw and then down in three cuts over his chest._

" _So I won't."_

_Chuck choked, surprised by the quickness of the blows, and Michael sighed as light and blood began to pour out of the smaller man's body. Snapping his fingers, the archangel sword was replaced by a long hunting knife and he slammed into Chuck's throat to pin him against the door. Chuck made a soft sound, eyes fixed on the face staring up at him, but the serenity never left his face._

" _You were dead to me years ago," Michael whispered. "I just never knew it until now."_

_As Chuck's eyes glazed over, the light pulsing out of him began to strengthen and throb brighter and brighter still. His back arched while the room itself seemed to slow down in time. Recognizing what it was, Castiel focussed on Nyx to see that she had her head in her hands and was crying. Then her voice rose in an ear-splitting scream that took on a note only Castiel and Meg could hear._

_A ping sound ricocheted through the air like a tablet being struck and in answer the room itself seemed to roar and scream with her._

_Everything in Castiel made him long to run to Nyx but then something startling happened to her body. Parts of her small body seemed to fade and then pulse with light as the ping sound resonated. The light pouring out of Chuck travelled through the air in blasts but Nyx's own light collided with it as her actual form seemed to become nothing but shadows. As Castiel watched, her body became like a galaxy of dark dust finally showing glowing stars beneath its shadow. Meg stared as well and her eyes went back to see splits of light pouring out of Chuck._

_The connection between Chuck and Nyx continued as the room shook and grew hot._

_The light crashed through the room, more brilliant than before, and Sam shielded his eyes from looking directly into the light though Kevin was staring into it. Only the protection of the memory saved Meg from being incinerated with it. She threw her arm up before her eyes when the pain of looking became too much and Castiel grasped her by her shoulders, hauling her close to hide her face against his neck as he withstood it for both of them._

_Then the sound and the light faded. A vampire had been burned for standing too close but the others had known to hide their eyes on instinct. When Meg lifted her head from Castiel's neck, it was to see Nyx still staring at where Chuck dangled. She was unhurt and unbothered by the light that had scorched the kitchen, no longer glowing herself. It was Kevin's low moans that caught their attention. His head was buried in his hands and he then cried loudly, lifting his head._

_Meg heard Sam's gasp echoing her own when she saw that his eyes had been burnt from their sockets. Castiel clasped her hand tight._

" _He looked at what they were." He sounded baffled. "But…"_

_The wheezing sound from Dean's body was deepening and they both looked to see him kneeling on the ground, heaving as if trying to vomit. Sam was leaning against the cupboard, head lolling as he focussed on the creatures possessing his brother._

" _I should kill you," Michael whispered, eyes on Sam. "But I did promise Dean not to let you die."_

_His face twisted and his head turned to Nyx and Kevin. The prophet was struggling to feel his way over to the little girl. "But I'm not so sure what to do with them."_

_Before Nyx could move, he leapt beside her and touched her. "Will you be a good girl for me, Nyx? Your uncle Dean?"_

_Her tiny chin firmed and she stared him in the eye. "You're not."_

" _You can see that?" Michael's attempt at a grin came out viciously feral. "Then maybe you can see what I'm going to let the vampires do to you. For fun."_

_She swallowed and shrunk back. Kevin swung blindly at him and he knocked him to the side._

" _I promised that I wouldn't hurt you both. I just made no promises to Dean about the vampires, did I?"_

" _Don't touch her," Sam threatened and watched as the thing wearing his brother turned around._

" _Or you'll what? Hobble over to stop them?" Michael smirked, still petting Nyx's hair. "This is just revenge, Sam. I took your brother from you, like you all took my brother from me time and time again. Castiel and Meg took my family from me, I'm taking their family from them. The thing they all tried so hard to protect."_

_He stroked Nyx's face. "Only fair, don't you think?"_

_Nyx suddenly lashed out, her tiny palm connecting with his face and her sharp little nails digging into his skin. The strength must have been incredible in the blow because it sent him to his knees and he howled in pain. Nyx raced away, her little feet making slapping sounds on the hardwood as she tried to get to the living room, and Michael fixed gleaming eyes on the vampires as he grabbed Kevin by the scruff of his neck._

" _The prophet's of use. Do whatever you want with the Abomination. You." He pointed at the largest of the vampires. "Kill her, drain her, remake her, I don't care anymore. Consider it payment for what you did." His head cracked to the side and he seemed to fight with something internal. "Shut up, this is finally what I want. To see Castiel suffer how I suffered."_

_Castiel and Meg kept their eyes on Sam. The hunter was straining to get up but the other vampires were waiting eagerly._

" _Beat the Winchester so he doesn't have a chance to follow us. Tell him to let Meg know it is a lesson for turning away from what she's been told to do. And to Castiel for disobeying Heaven and his betters."_

_Kevin was struggling to fight Michael off as he physically moved him from the room, leaving Sam with the vampires. As Meg and Castiel watched, he was beaten down as if in the middle of a gang fight, kicked and punched until he could only lie crippled on the ground with his face a puffy, bloody mess. He reached out for something to hold onto and then collapsed, the fight leaving him._

_Castiel closed his eyes as he heard a piercing scream and the sound of vampires growling and snapping between themselves as to who was to kill the girl. Beside him, Meg slumped a little, as if all strength was gone from her._

_Sam's eyes finally closed as he lost his fight to stay awake. Then the room was plummeted into darkness as his memory ended and they were thrown from his mind._

* * *

When the darkness cleared, the hospital room was once again in brilliant and sterile white relief. The propulsion back out of Sam's mind was disorienting enough that Meg had to hold onto Castiel to stay upright.

Below them, Sam, who had lived through the memory again, was struggling to hold it together. His eyes were rolled up to the ceiling, his face scrunched up to stop the flow of tears he wanted so desperately to let go. Castiel dropped his hand from Meg and Sam's foreheads, and then grasped Meg's hand tightly for strength.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I tried."

"It's not your fault, Sam" Castiel said and he looked at Meg. Her eyes were on the bed and one hand was touching her stomach slowly, as if remembering what she had carried once. When their eyes connected again, he saw the deep shuddering breath she took. He had never seen her so shaken and he knew that he wore the same exhausted look. He hadn't expected to feel so drained by the effect of that memory.

"I need to get out of here," the demon whispered and she stumbled out. Murmuring at Sam that he would be back, Castiel followed and found her just out in the hall, leaning her head against a wall and heaving for breath. The reaction, had she been human, would have been normal but Meg was recovering fast. Eventually, the angel knew she would turn to him, calm and cold.

Castiel knew what he felt like doing. Scream and rage and forget for a short time that he had to feel this way.

"I felt him in my head, Cas," Meg whispered as she looked up at him. "As if he left part of himself behind in Sam's memory so I felt everything he did to them."

"We need to stop him," Castiel whispered. "Whatever he has planned."

Meg sniffed and looked away. "It has to do with the Lethe."

"How do you know that?"

"Why else? Why even bother focussing on me, on Kevin? We're the only ones Sheol physically had something to do with, besides Sam, and there might be a chance for him to get to the Lethe." Her face hardened into a tight mask of anger. "I'll destroy him."

"He wants you to come after him, Meg."

"Good because he's getting his wish," the demon snapped, recovering from her shock. But when she went to pass him, Castiel grabbed her shoulder and shoved her hard back into the wall.

"No."

"You think you can stop me?"

"I know I can try, but we've lost Kevin and Dean. Sam nearly died. We've….we've lost Nyx." He stammered the words out, feeling how deep they cut just to say them. Taking in a shaky breath, he looked into her eyes. "I can't lose you as well."

The words were loud in the quiet hallway and Meg stared up at him, all defiance finally leaving when the weight of his words suddenly hit her at full force.

"She was innocent," Meg muttered. "I used to say there were no innocents, everything was a price of war. But…the price was my daughter. Our daughter."

"I won't let Azazel or Michael get away with that, but I need you and Sam to fight with me. I need you," Castiel whispered, cupping her face with his palms. "After Eve, we're not strong enough yet. We need time to heal from what happened."

Her eyes were black now and he stroked her skin to calm her.

"Please."

"I won't go after Azazel," she agreed. "But I am going to look for everything I can to find a way of trapping him."

Castiel sighed, knowing that she was right. Of the pair of them, he had to look after Sam as best as he could. Meg needed to be on her own and he knew that. "I'll help Sam for a day or two. But then I'll come to help you."

Her smile was almost wistful and he lowered his head, brushing her cheek with his lips. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her," he whispered, letting signs of his grief show. He saw her close her eyes to hide what she felt.

"Me too."

He wasn't sure why he needed to see signs of her grief; maybe it was to know that this moment was real in its terrible nature. Before he could go to hold her, Meg's eyes opened and she slipped under his arm. She walked down the hall, lights flickering as she went, and Castiel watched her long after the elevator doors closed behind her.

Closing his eyes, he rested back against the wall and slowly sank down to the floor so he could bury his head in his hands. It had cost him everything to try to look like he was in control, not wanting to lose Meg's faith in him as he had lost everything else. Letting her go to hunt demons and any loyalists to Azazel had been too hard and he knew how reckless she could be.

Faced with a loss like Nyx, Meg would have no reason to hold back, even for him.

* * *

It took a while for Sam's head to feel close to normal enough for him to move. He heard Castiel and Meg in the hall, heard the hushed arguments, but knew that whatever it was had nothing to do with him. Sam had experienced everything all over again and he had seen the effect it had on both angel and demon. It had only made him believe he was about to make the right choice.

He knew that Castiel was outside of his room and it took him some effort to move quietly, having to bite on his lower lip as he drew the IV needle out of his arm. Biting into the plastic to muffle his groans, using the IV needle he slit the tiny metal across his hand until blood welled enough for him to use. He had to twist around on the bed to get to how he wanted to be and he began to draw on the bedside table.

"Cas?" he called out, drawing quickly, and the door swung open. The angel looked terrible and Sam nearly regretted what he was about to do.

"I'm still here. Did you need something?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered as he quickly finished. "Look, don't take this personally, okay?"

"Take what?" Castiel blinked and realized what Sam had done just before the hunter slapped his palm on the mark and sent him out of the room in a flash of light. It left behind the smell of ozone and Sam shook his head.

"Sorry, Cas." He exhaled sharply and reached for the phone by the bed. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered to himself as he punched in the three numbers. He had to wait six rings before it finally picked up.

"This better be bloody good. I'm literally in the middle of someone," Crowley snarled as a hello. A loud scream echoed him.

"I need to speak to you," Sam said simply. "Room 1207, Kansas Heart in Wichita."

By the time he hung up, the King of the Crossroads was in front of him, fuming mad. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Sam struggled to swing his legs off the bed. "I need your help."

"You need my help?" Crowley's eyebrows shot to his forehead. "My, the twists keep on coming."

"I need you to kill me. For a minute. Then revive me." Sam gestured at the oxygen tank.

The demon blinked. "Come again?"

"The only one who can remove this spell the Trans put on me and Dean is Death. I know it. No angel has done it, no demon can do it. He's the only one powerful enough left." Sam grappled for the edge of the bed and pulled himself to it.

"And I'd help you, why?" Crowley walked around the bed. "I've got Azazel's eyes on me at all times. He even forced me to a deal where I don't get to lay one finger on Meg, and he won't say why."

"You owe me a favour or two. For not killing you when I should have. And you can't say no to that end of a deal. I know your kind. I'll do whatever I have to, to help Dean, but I can't do it from a hospital bed."

"Blimey, you do have it bad for saving big brother." Crowley rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "So let's say, just for kicks, that I do help you. Stop your heart and let you see Death. How are you so sure you'll get sprung to life again? Death is the grumpy sort."

Sam grunted and then groaned when the stabbing pain in his legs worsened. The morphine was wearing off and with it, he feared, his courage to do this.

"Because if you don't start my heart again, Cas will likely find you. And destroy you." Sam managed a macabre grin. "Or Meg might get to you first."

"All right, all right, don't twist my arm. Let's cut a deal. I do this, you do everything you can to take care of Azazel. Everything."

"I thought you would have been more loyal to him."

"Do you know what I was under his thumb? An ant. A promoted ant, but an ant. There's no freedom. He combines the worst of Abaddon and I in one tidy and utterly insane package." He sniffed pompously. "The old ones always do do things like that."

"Fine." Sam held out his hand and Crowley pouted.

"No kiss? I've been waiting years for this moment," he teased and Sam glared at him. "Fine. Prude."

He shook his hand and Crowley's grip was hot, scalding him as a reminder not to cut out on the deal. Then the demon reached for his chest.

"Give Death my regards."

Feeling his heart slowing beat by beat, Sam stared up into Crowley's oddly concerned face until it became too much to focus on him. He took in a breath and in the next moment he was in darkness. The frightening and cold maw of something he knew too well. Closing his eyes, he began to murmur a small prayer that he was doing the right thing.

When he opened his eyes, the hospital room was gone and he was standing outside it, staring at his own body with Crowley's hand on his head.

"Sam, what are you doing?" a female voice asked and he turned to see a slim brunette staring up at him. She almost looked frantic. "Don't do this!"

"I remember you. You're Tessa, aren't you?" he asked and she fidgeted. "Dean said this worked for him, to get my soul back."

"You're messing with a power you can't possibly understand, Sam," she warned, nervously looking over her shoulder.

"I want to see him."

"He's not a doctor, Sam, you can't just summon him and…"

"It is all right, Tessa. This isn't the first time I've spoken with Sam Winchester and it won't be the last. Though he is vaguely resembling a cockroach with his ability to survive." The voice behind her made the Reaper close her eyes and turn to see her boss sitting in one of the chairs, beside an old woman she had just reaped from the other ward.

"Sir, I…"

"Take her. Leave us." Death's eyes were on Sam. "Now."

Obediently, Tessa snapped her fingers and the old woman and her were gone. Sam jutted his jaw out, trying to summon his nerve. Death leaned back in his seat and regarded the youngest Winchester with open hostility.

"You do like to imitate your brother. The nerve of you is either courageous or idiotic." He shrugged. "It is so hard to decide which."

"I need to save him."

"Oh here we go." Death rolled his eyes. "You two always need to save each other. I'm not interested in ripping that thing that used to be a demon and an angel, out of him. I'm sure it is there for a reason. It will interesting to see how Dean gets out of this one."

Death stood up and Sam started for him, forgetting what he was. "I'm not asking you to do that!"

He was a foot away when Death raised his hand. "What are you asking me to do?"

"The spell that the Trans put on me and Dean. Release it." Sam cleared his throat. "Cas said it was unwinding itself anyway."

"If I can, why should I?"

Sam tried to remember the events of the past few days clearly. "You were at Chuck's house for a reason."

"And if I was?"

"Stop answering questions with questions!" Sam screamed at him and the bird-like cock to Death's head was a warning that made Sam swallow down something more cutting. "You were there to see Nyx and Kevin, weren't you?"

"A lot of good it did anyone but yes."

"Did you reap Nyx and Chuck?"

Death blinked at the unexpected question. "That is hardly any of your business."

"So you…"

Death rolled his eyes around, already bored. "I was there again, yes. But I had business with all of them. As to what? No comment."

"You had some interest in Nyx, Chuck, and Kevin. Azazel wanted Meg and Nyx, we both know this."

"He wants the Lethe. And unfortunately, when God had a hand in allowing Castiel and Meg to create Nyx, when Meg and Nyx were both touched by forces far older than any angel or demon, he created a doorway to that place. Tablets do create a way of accessing things, after all." Death hummed and took a seat again. Confused by the tablet reference, Sam focussed on what he could understand.

"If he gets the Lethe, the world ends, doesn't it?"

"The world as you know it? Oh yes. Do you remember Castiel's little experiment? All the souls in Purgatory would be nothing compared to the sheer amount of souls from the Lethe. It was a place for God's cast offs. Those who never met his requirements for peace or for torment. Though I do think Azazel would find he bit off more than he could chew with such an attempt." Death sat back down. "But I fail to see how any of that affects you and your brother."

"I need to get Dean back. If he can get Azazel and Michael out of him, if we can finish this, then we can keep those doors shut."

"You want the spell removed so your angel can heal you. So you can work faster." Death made a face. "Interesting. But you know the consequences. You won't have a chance of retaining any piece of your brother. There will be fragments but nothing to keep him tied to you. The soul wrapped in yours, that has been keeping you strong, will be gone. If Azazel and Michael kill him, he's dead. His soul will be stuck with theirs."

Sam closed his eyes. He'd not forgotten that and knew what he would lose if he bet wrong. "I'm ready for that."

"Are you? You two are never prepared to lose one another."

"I'm asking this as a favour."

"What do I get in return?" Death asked and he reached into his pocket for his watch. He checked the time. "Two more minutes, Sam, and Crowley won't be able to bring you back."

"What do you want?"

Death reached, again, into his pocket and this time pulled out a small glowing ball. "Get this inside of Dean if you manage to end this possession."

Sam took it and found that it was cold. "What is it?"

"Elements of life and chaos really. Azazel and Michael were never to be bound together." He nodded as he stood up. "Make him absorb that and it will unravel what the Lethe did. It will also have… other effects."

"Fine." Sam rolled the ball in his hand and it disappeared to his shock.

"It will come when it needs to. Now, this may tickle." Death reached out and put his hand in Sam's chest. Sam choked and stared up into his eyes. The sensation didn't tickle. It burned and crashed through him. Sam screamed as light filled the misty hallway. "And try not to mess it up, will you?"

Death's words echoed in Sam's ears as he closed his eyes and howled in pain.

* * *

In a north Oklahoma cabin, Azazel froze mid-step and clutched at his heart. Something felt like it was surging into him and at the same time begin ripped out of him. Awakened, Michael took over and hissed. "Sam's soul," he whispered just as light coursed into Dean Winchester's body yet again, untouchable to angel or demon.

Deep inside, Dean was aware of a pain that scorched every part of him as something went missing and something tired but new came back to him. But the loss hit him hard and he ached because he knew what it was.

"Sammy, what have you done?"

* * *

Crowley slammed his fist into Sam's chest. "Wake up, you big dumb moose. I haven't got all day!"

Sam choked on air as he came to after Crowley gave him another hit. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in surprise.

"Right, that's a great look for you." Crowley glared down at him. "I hope it worked because I'm not going into you again. Gets all personal and I'll feel like I should buy you dinner afterwards."

Sam stared up at him, eyes fluttering wide as he stammered for breath. "Crow…"

The demon froze, feeling something moving towards them, and he quickly pasted a grin on his face. "Toodles, Sammy. I'm out. Remember our deal."

He was gone when Sam blinked again and in his place was Castiel. The angel's eyes were like ice with his anger and he had his hand half-raised in the air. Crowley had just missed being smote.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

Sam held his gaze for only a second before he promptly leaned over the bed and vomited into the trashcan.

* * *

_One week later…_

Sam drove and drove, pointing the Impala in any direction he thought Dean would be in. Now that their connection had been almost completely severed, it would be harder to track his brother. But he had a good idea that Azazel was just wandering until he could force them to come to him. Usually Sam would have planned out something with Dean, some scheme that would have them together and fighting, no matter the end.

Only Azazel was using his brother…. Michael was using his brother… and Sam didn't know what to do.

"I needed you, Dean, why would you do this?"

He thought he felt hands ruffling his hair, like an affectionate big brother would, and he twitched his head, slowing the car down. Since destroying what was left of the spell, Castiel had healed him but the bones in his legs still felt like they could break at the slightest attempt of violence.

Sam just wanted to end this before he broke completely. The doctors had been shocked by his recovery and then pointed out his CT scans repeatedly to show that there was something worse waiting for him if he didn't rest. He was exhausted, the doctor had said, and he'd collapse eventually.

Leaving the hospital had been easy though, since Sam could only focus on one thing. Dean needed him and he had never wanted to let his brother down. So after a stop at the bunker to resupply and gather what spell books he had on exorcisms, he drove, following the signs being left behind.

The first stop on his list was a safe house in Oklahoma he knew hunters like to use. There was a chance they had word about Eve, about what had happened to Dean even, and he had to take it.

Coming to the building wrapped in police tape had been a shock. There were a few cop cars and a forensics van, and automatically he fished through the glove compartment for a US Marshal badge as he braked the car beside the van. An older man greeted him and when Sam flashed his badge and made up a story about passing through, he led him over to the bar.

"Only reason why it wasn't found earlier was because the interior was blocked off. A sort of secret room. The bartender figured they were gone or sleeping whatever it was they were on off. They'd been there over a week before he finally decided to see what was in there." The sheriff rolled his eyes. "Typical."

"How many were in there?"

"Five. And from what we can get, there was only one attacker but we can't nail an ID on him on the security feeds from the outside." He opened the door for Sam and the stench of rotting bodies and blood had him putting a hand over his mouth in reaction. "Yeah, it's bad."

Sam swallowed down the urge to vomit. "So these people…"

"No one local. All are from up in Colorado, actually. Heavily armed but…" He gestured at a white sheet and the coroner there lifted it up to show them a young woman who had been slashed. Sam knelt and immediately recognized her. A woman named Marie, he thought, and she was a hunter. A quick glance at the others let him see that the rest had also been hunters he knew.

"He did a number on them."

"This was on the security feed. The tape is just white but the sound is still good." The sheriff played it for him and Sam listened to the screams, hearing a man murmuring for them not to fight. It was Dean's voice and he shut his eyes. The sheriff looked at him. "So you recognize the man on the tape?"

"No!" He immediately covered with a remorseful smile. "No. Can I have a second with the scene, see if I can notice anything else?"

The sheriff eyed him suspiciously but the coroner nodded. "I'm done here, knock yourself out."

Sam waited until they had gone, muttering to one another about weird Marshals, before he lifted the sheet again. The cuts were from an angel sword, he could recognize it from the times Castiel had left behind bodies, but the savagery was pure demon, he was sure of it. A piece of paper was sticking out from beneath the couch and he quickly palmed it just as the sheriff came back.

"Marshal Dillon?" he asked, and outside people cackled with laughter that Sam ignored. "We've got an FBI agent here that says he wants time with the scene. An Agent Monroe?"

Already thinking up a plausible lie, Sam frowned and followed him out of the safe room, and instantly he relaxed. Castiel was leaning against the bar, looking like an FBI agent with the way he had fixed his loose tie and straightened his coat.

"Agent," he greeted, holding the act together. Castiel nodded and then followed the Sheriff into the room without Sam. Murmuring excuses about making calls, Sam went back to the car and waited for the curious police to go back into the house before he quickly pulled out and left.

He was only a mile down the highway when Castiel appeared on the side of the road and then just as quickly fluttered into the Impala beside him.

"You saw it?" Sam asked and Castiel nodded, hands clenched on his thighs.

"I followed you there. Things have been so quiet I thought Azazel was in hiding."

"He wasn't apparently. I… I haven't seen something like that in years, when Meg still ran with him." Sam held out the paper. "I took this."

Castiel squinted and held it up to the failing light. "Numbers."

"Might be a code."

"They're latitude and longitude," the angel interrupted, finger on the second set of numbers. "Pull over."

"What?"

"Now, Sam!"

Sam had just put the car into park and turned it off when Castiel grabbed his arm and they were flying, just as quickly landing outside a forested cabin. The angel looked around as Sam swayed on his feet.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, dizzy from how fast they had travelled. Castiel tapped the set of numbers on the paper and walked towards the front porch. "Cas! Wait!"

"He's been here."

"How do you know that?"

"I can smell it. Can't you smell it?" the angel asked and Sam inhaled deep through his nose, almost choking on the smell of blood and sulphur. When Castiel forced the door open, the sight that greeted them was the same as Oklahoma bar. Blood sprayed on the walls, and there were even two hunters still sitting at a table, though their heads were off. Sam lifted his hand to his mouth and swallowed.

"Damn it."

Castiel shook his head. "We couldn't have done anything."

Sam kicked a chair over and as he turned he noticed the third wall had been painted on in blood.

**I'll wait for you, Sammy. Bring friends.**

The scrawl was morbid, still dripping and warm, and Sam recoiled back. The message was underlined and just below it was the next latitude and longitude degrees.

"Take me there."

Castiel shook his head. "No."

"What? Cas!"

"Not without help. I can't risk you, Sam, and we don't know what we'll be walking into. You still need rest." The angel grasped him by the arm and in the blink of an eye they were back at the Impala. Castiel held on to try to force Sam to look at him. "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam wrenched his arm free and limped around the car, fumbling to find his keys. "Yeah, sure you are. Where the hell have you been anyway? My brother is missing and you won't even get me to him when we know where he is."

Castiel was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sam. I should have been here for you but I…"

"You what!" Sam shouted. "Had some celestial business only angels can do? How does that help **me** , Castiel?"

"I needed time. To myself." The words were surprisingly meek and Sam looked up from his search to see Castiel staring at the sunset, his expression tired. "I hadn't expected it to hurt so much."

Immediately, Sam deflated when he realized why Castiel had stayed on his own. "Cas, I'm sorry."

"There's no need…"

"No, that-that was unfair. You lost Nyx and I'm treating you like a tool." Sam exhaled and rested his hands on the roof of the car. "I'm sorry. I… I haven't even had time to absorb losing her and you know how I loved her."

"I know." Castiel rubbed tiredly at his face. "I loved her as well. I just never realized how much."

"Where's Meg?"

"She was hunting. Her way." Castiel sighed. "She asked me for time, and I gave it to her because I needed to be alone."

"Good." Sam looked him over. "But you miss her."

One look at Castiel's bleak expression told him everything.

"Cas, find her." Sam sighed. "We'll need her and I think you need her more. She might even need you. I know what it's like to lose someone you love like that, Cas. Don't be alone."

He lowered himself into the car and even as he pulled away he noticed that Castiel didn't move away from the side of the road, even when Sam was over the ridge and fading out of sight.

* * *

After Sam's sad encouragement, Castiel searched for her all over Kansas and Colorado, following her trail every way that he could. It wasn't that Meg didn't want to be found, he slowly realized as time ticked by in impossibly long seconds. Her patterns were erratic at best and seemed to be on a whim. She was upset, angry, and it made tracking her harder than before. There was no way of just laying out in wait for her either because he wouldn't be able to predict her movements.

He simply wanted to grab her by the shoulders and force her still. If he had been human, maybe it would have been easier. They weren't human however, and that was the only thing that held him at a distance, letting other angels watch over her as he mourned and tried to find where Kevin was to give himself something to do.

Eventually, when he slowed down enough to really look, Castiel found Meg on the highway in west Kansas of all places. The demon had finally stopped driving, likely because the snow had turned to rain and was pounding down in waves. It made the roads next to impossible to drive on and the familiar old Cougar was pulled up on the side of a dark back road. She wasn't doing much to hide herself, with no wards up at all that he could see, and Castiel wondered if it was an invitation or not.

Standing across the road, he hesitated for a few minutes, aware of his clothing being soaked, and then made his way over. There was no pointing in wait, he thought to himself. She either wanted him there or she didn't. The closer he came, the louder the hum of music was and he saw her leaning against the window, cheek pressed to the glass and her eyes shut.

Tapping on the glass, he watched as she jerked upright and blinked at the sight of him. He tapped again, an impatient rhythm, as the sleet soaked through to his skin and plastered his hair to his head. Meg sleepily stared up at him. Nervously, he wondered if she'd leave him out in the cold.

But Meg unlocked the driver door and scooted over to the passenger side so he could come in, her feet propped up on the dashboard.

"Thanks," he mumbled once the door was closed. He ruffled his hair to get rid of the cold rain and looked around, before watching as Meg leaned forward to turn down the music. She turned the car back on so that warm air blasted from the vents and he sighed gratefully. "Have you been here long?"

She shrugged. "Under an hour. Couldn't get any further." The demon opened the glove compartment and fished around for a small bottle of bourbon. Twisting off the cap, she gulped down bit and coughed before handing it over to him. Though it wouldn't help, he swallowed the biting liquor just to feel the way it warmed his insides for a moment.

"I expected you to be on my heels miles ago," Meg said when the silence started to drag.

"I wanted to," he admitted. "But I know you. It wouldn't have helped either of us at the time."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed on the floorboards a small goblet and a bloodstained knife. Meg followed his eyes and shrugged. "I had to make a few calls. I used rabbit's blood, before you get all pissy. I figure with the angels watching me, killing humans would tick them off."

He looked away out the windshield. "So you know," he said. They had left when he had arrived and he was thankful for the privacy.

"Of course I know." She leaned back against the passenger door. "I just ignored them."

The lack of emotion in her voice worried him enough to look over again to see her watching him cagily, as if she expected him to clamp shackles around her. But all he did was reach out and touch her cheek, lingering on the bruise there. He hid his relief that she let him touch her, almost leaning into it this time.

"How've you been?" Meg asked as he traced the yellowing bruise with his fingers.

"I don't know. I wanted to find you but I thought—" He dropped his hand. "I needed time and maybe it was the wrong choice." The laugh he barked out was coarse and angry. "Wrong choices. I've been doing that a lot lately. This is all my fault. Kevin, Dean, Sam… Nyx."

Meg was quiet, watching as he fisted his hands and gave the steering wheel a gentle punch that beeped the horn. "Not everything is about you, Clarence, and this definitely wasn't something you chose," she said. "We all thought Eve was our big problem. We were wrong."

"I'm sorry anyway." He lifted his eyes to stare out at the road. "I didn't wait over three years to lose you all now."

"So that's why you're my guardian angel, huh?" She was trying to joke but her voice lacked the usual bite. "What's with the late night visit?"

"Sam needs our help. Your help. You need your vengeance."

"What about you, Clarence?" Her low drawl made him turn his head. "What do you need?"

The way his head tilted to look at her more intently made the car suddenly seem so much more closed in. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing out in a long sigh.

"How does grief feel for a demon?" he asked.

Meg curled her legs beneath herself. "It's strange. I never expected to feel it again. Not as sharply. But I…" Her eyes went to the backseat. "It feels like I'm missing a shadow. That's the best way of putting it."

"I know." He didn't move, his hands in his lap and his eyes still closed. "I don't feel right. I don't understand it and I don't think I will ever. I want it to stop for a while."

Meg ran her fingers over her leg thoughtfully but didn't answer.

"We need to get to Sam when he calls, but we'll wait for the rain to end," Castiel explained. "You will likely need your car."

"Fine."

Something strange in her voice made him glance over to see her leaning back in her seat, her eyes closed. Her serenity was fake, he knew, and he reached out to brush her hand. "Meg. You know that I…"

"I know, Cas. Even when you don't say it, I know. The way you always knew, I guess." Her eyes didn't open and he removed his hand, content that he didn't have to repeat the words for her to believe them now. Meg shrugged and nestled down deeper against the door. "But if I'm not going anywhere, I might as well sleep, right?"

"I suppose." He swivelled in his now damp seat and looked at the rear of the car before he hauled himself up. Ignoring her muttering about ruining the seats, he slipped across as best as he could into the backseat, stretching out his legs. Meg leaned over her own and watched him settle, pulling an old comforter up to his chest. It smelled familiar and he wasn't sure why.

"You're staying with me for the night?" she asked curiously. "In a car?"

"Yes." He eyed her as he tried to get comfortable. Meg continued to watch him, resting her head on the back of her seat. He fixed his coat tighter across his chest; the way she was staring making him nervous. "Is that a problem?"

Her eyes dropped back to the console. "No. Suit yourself."

Castiel watched her for a second longer before he reached over and grabbed her wrist, pulling her slowly into the backseat with him. Meg grumbled as he did it but came willingly.

"I've left you before. To do what you wanted." As she fell onto the seat beside him, he slid his arm tentatively around her shoulders, feeling her tension at the way he did it. "But right now, I don't want to leave."

Meg didn't answer, the stiffness in her shoulders incredible but he waited for her to relax, slowly, muscle by muscle, before he waved his hand and turned the car's engine off. The battery still ran, letting her music continue on in soft strains and she relaxed a bit more. Her body was cold, compared to the car, and he felt her press slowly into him for warmth.

"What happens now?" she asked and he leaned his head over, inhaling the scent coming off from her hair as he tried to think of something. His eyes shut a little as he thought it over. "Cas?"

"I don't know."

They were quiet for a while, Meg scrolling through her phone and Castiel keeping his eyes shut to feign sleep. The urge to fling himself through realities, to find Azazel and Michael, to find Dean, to do _something_ was so strong that he had to fight to stay still. His head felt full of static and relaxing wasn't helping him. Every emotion he had never expected had come roaring to life and he was miserable because of it. Grief and misery. He couldn't focus because of those emotions.

"Castiel? Something wrong?" Meg asked suddenly and he opened his eyes to see that his one hand had slipped down to rest over her breast and his other was clenched so tightly around her arm that his fingers must be leaving marks.

"I…uh…"

Her head rolled on his arm to look up at him. Her eyes searched his face for a long moment, her fingers tightening in his coat lapel. "What do you want to do?" she murmured and he exhaled.

"It's strange." He leaned to the side to look at her. "When Dean would talk about trying to forget things, to forget moments of his life if only for a moment, I thought it was just a human weakness."

The demon's eyes stayed on his collar.

"Now I'm not so sure." Reaching out, he touched the collar of her jacket and slowly pulled it to the side, slipping his hand into her coat to feel her heart beating beneath her chest. "I know some of this is illusion, a body that's not yours really, any more than mine belongs to me, but I can feel you alive under the surface. It's the only thing I have left that can help me."

He stared down between them, watching the rise and fall of her chest as if it was further proof that he needed.

Meg felt his fingers slide beneath her shirt to cup her breast. She couldn't fight that logic or argue with it; she'd done the same to him a few times when she had needed to understand those feelings. When he looked at her, for a moment she saw what he must have looked like as a human: alone and wary of what was to come, utterly vulnerable. She knew how much he had loved Nyx and though part of her longed to talk about it for her own sanity, she felt the need rippling off of him. She muttered his name again as she turned in his arms a little.

When he raised his head to look at her, she lifted her mouth to his and kissed him. Castiel froze at the touch, his mouth firm and closed against hers, and Meg moved her hands up his chest to his hair. She felt his hesitation; even now, years after they started this madness, sometimes a part of him always hesitated as if deciding what to do next.

She pulled her mouth away a little. "Stop thinking for five minutes and kiss me," she murmured before her tongue slipped out and licked at his lower lip. Castiel groaned and suddenly lurched forward, pushing her against the seat and lifting himself onto his knees as he kissed her back hard enough that their teeth clicked together. When her fingers pulled at his coat, he shrugged it off and tossed it onto the floorboard before helping her out of her jacket and throwing it over the front seat. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Meg stared up at him, seeing the wildness suddenly inside of him as he braced over her with his hand on the side window and his knees on either side of her hips. The desperation rolled off of him in waves and she kept her hands on his chest.

Just a few years ago, this desperation was something she would have fed off of hungrily, used it against him. But now it was almost terrifying to see something so naked on the surface of an angel.

_It was like over four years ago, when they had first touched like this. Only now their roles were reversed._

He made a sound as he leaned down to kiss her again and Meg gave his shoulders a shove until he was sitting back. She straddled him and moved up onto her knees so she could press her lips to his, tasting his startled exhale as she moved her hips into his. The low roof made it hard to undress properly, but she felt his hands pulling at the hem of her shirt and she squirmed to help him lift it over her head. Her bra was off before the shirt even hit the seat and his head bent, hair tickling her skin. His mouth was between her breasts, breath hot, and she felt him biting at her.

"You're leaving marks," she muttered when he sucked a bruise on her breast.

"I know. I want to." His words were muffled and Meg felt his fingers on her jean buttons. When they were mostly naked after an awkward struggle, his hands spanned her waist and held her close, as if to keep her from getting away.

"Easy. I'm not leaving you," Meg muttered against the scruff of his jaw, tasting old aftershave and rain on his skin. He shuddered and thrust into her, muffling her gasp of surprise with his lips. At the same time, his hands tightened on her hips to hold her in place as he started to move. She felt that rutting urge starting in him, and knew he'd hurt them both, as a way of reminding each other that they were alive and here together. As much as Meg always enjoyed that side to him, she wasn't sure why she put her hands on the ones on her waist to stop him. Castiel tensed beneath her and she ran her mouth over his earlobe. "I'm not leaving."

He was so still she wondered if he was going to go cold on her. Then he shifted and his mouth pressed to her neck.

"I miss her too," she whispered as he rested his head against her breast. "And it's my fault. I had one cause left, one purpose, and I lost it. So what do I do now?"

"Meg," Castiel muttered and he took her dark hair in his hand, pulling it away from her face so he could look at her. Her forehead pressed against his and eventually her eyes opened to reveal the slightest sign of vulnerability. Meg was a demon and it had been easy for him to forget how much he knew she had loved that little girl in the face of his own grief.

"She was something we never expected, but she was there. You don't carry a child inside of you for months, raise them, and then forget them. I'm a demon, Cas, but I'm not able to forget it." Her eyes were wide as she looked down at him. He ran his thumbs over her cheekbones and watched the weariness suddenly steal over her. Meg's arms went around his shoulders. "But I want to forget too, even for a little while."

He nodded and leaned forward, letting her meet him halfway with a kiss. Letting his hands go up her back and curl over her shoulders, he let Meg lose herself in him as he finally let himself be lost in her.

* * *

The two vampires left from Eve's remade brood were starving and Azazel could almost hear them salivating over the potential meal the man in the back of the van could make. The demon himself didn't like to drive but there were times when he could feel Dean pushing back at him, as if he could manage to eject the demon from his body. Driving settled him and the old van was roomy enough not to bother Azazel's preference for teleporting.

Michael was only quiet because he had the chance to torment Dean with thoughts of Sam.

Funny, how an angel could hold such a grudge about losing a brother. Maybe demons were more of an improvement, the old demon thought with a grin.

"When can we eat?" the small vampire in the back growled. "I'm starved."

"I'll pull this car over in a heartbeat if you don't shut up," Azazel warned.

"Told you we should have stayed behind with the others to try to eat that girl," the second vampire muttered. The yellow-eyed demon was debating on saying how he doubted a child would make much of a meal, about how the vampires they'd left behind were like starving as well, but the loud knocking on side of the car meant his newest prize was awake.

"All right, I'm talking to the boy. One of you can drive and once we get to the next stop, you can go eat the locals." Jerking the car's wheel over, he warned the vampires to behave and stalked around to the back, flinging open the doors. Crouched in the corner, Kevin had his hands up before his face as if to shield more blows.

"What's up, Kev?"

"Don't… don't do that." The prophet nearly twitched. "I know you're not Dean."

Azazel grinned. "Maybe I really am."

The prophet's head turned as if he could actually see him through the blood and pus soaked gauze wrapped around his head. "What did you do to Nyx? To Sam?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that." Azazel jumped up into the back and tapped the window to signal the vampires to drive on. "Have you stopped bleeding?"

"Screw off."

"That's not very nice."

"I don't work with demons."

"Sure you don't." He reached into his coat and pulled out the demon tablet he'd taken from Heaven the last time he and Michael were there. "I have some reading for you to do."

Kevin's laugh was cold. "Right. You can't tell I'm blind, huh?"

"I'm sure you've got all that wording memorized, especially from years ago. You can feel the etching." Azazel dropped it in his lap. "You're going to read the fine print, left by Sheol and God. And tell me what it was that would help open the gates of the Lethe again. I've got my guesses."

"Why would I help you?"

"Well." Azazel leaned close, so his breath brushed Kevin's ear. "You know Crowley and his torture?"

The prophet nodded.

"Let's just say that Alastair, Crowley, Meg, all of them… they had to learn it from somewhere. And besides, you'll have no way of knowing if your friends live because of this. Or die."

Kevin swallowed and turned his head down.

"Figure it out. And I might keep Michael's promise to Dean not to hurt you." His teeth snapped viciously. "Or don't and I give you to Eve and let you become a monster."

* * *

Castiel let Meg doze, pressed against him on the backseat with his leg thrown over hers and the blanket pulled over her. With one arm anchored around her waist and the other propping his head up, he took up as little space as he could. It gave him time to watch and touch her whenever he needed to.

It gave him time to think.

Several times he was stunned to find himself lowering his head to the back of her neck and burying his face in her hair to hide the strange sting of tears he felt. Those moments brought all the grief and hurt back to reality, and he knew Meg was aware of what he was doing. Other times he kept her close and pretended that this was a moment just for them. That it was on a whim to make love in her car. No matter what he did, Meg would only murmur and hold the other hand on her belly steady, but she left him alone. Neither of them had wanted to talk and he was grateful for that at first, until slowly he found himself needing to be distracted again.

He had his head resting behind hers when he felt her shift. "I want to find Abaddon," she said suddenly and he lifted his head to look down at her closed eyes.

"Why? She's dangerous. Even after all those years, we weren't able to kill her."

"I don't need to tell you my reasons. Just trust me. We find Abaddon and trap her, we get rid of another threat."

Smoothing his hand down her shoulder, Castiel noticed that she didn't open her eyes. "Are you lying to me?"

Meg grunted and turned so she lay almost underneath him. "What makes you say that?"

He looked at her closely. "You can't bring her back by throwing yourself in the way of every demon who will give you a fight."

Her eyes went black in reaction. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"You don't fool me, Meg. I know what you're trying to do." He braced an arm over her head and stayed up as her hands fisted against his bare chest and gave a little push.

"What would you do then?"

"The same thing. If I thought it would help but it won't, will it?" he asked, patiently waiting.

Something caved, just a little, in her expression and she turned away from under him, reaching for her shirt. He caught her hand and held it away, using his weight to keep her still. He heard her grumbling and ignored her, reaching for his buzzing phone next.

"Sam?" he asked without checking the screen.

"No. Though I do hope he is on your speed dial," Crowley said and Castiel jerked up, sitting between Meg's legs and raking his hand through his hair.

"Crowley. How did you get this number?" Castiel asked, aware of the demon beneath him jerking upright, sitting close against him to listen.

"Darling, you'd be amazed how much I know. I assume if you're there, then darling Meg is wrapped all around you." Crowley took Castiel's silence as agreement. "I have some intel you might want."

Castiel waved Meg to silence when she opened her mouth and he saw her fierce glare. "What information?"

"From what a well-placed spy told me, a certain yellow-eyed demon is headed to a place near Amarillo in the next twenty four hours. Are you following me?" The Crossroads demon sounded agitated. "And I'm very certain he might even be hanging around to see if you all show up. I suggest send in the bulky moose first and try to stab the demon in the back after."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Hell's barely big enough for two, let alone three." Crowley swallowed whatever he was drinking and Castiel could have sworn he heard the smirk he was wearing. "I was nothing much under Azazel and I said to myself 'who would put the best thorn in his side'. The answer is his ex-pet and her overbearing albeit sexy boytoy."

"How do we know this isn't you betraying us?" Castiel asked, ignoring Meg's eye roll.

"Because you have no other choice in the matter. Toodles."

After Crowley hung up, Castiel stared at the phone and scrolled down, hesitating before he sent the text. Meg had pulled the blanket up to her breasts and was staring out the front window, one leg across his lap. His mind almost numb with knowing what could happen, Castiel could only wait for her to look at him.

"What?"

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

Meg's eyebrow lifted. "Are you?"

* * *

The drive to the small town was thick with tension, Meg using the silence to create an invisible rift between them. Beside her, Castiel only ignored her music and thumbed through the pages of his journal for a while. He read and subtly began to rip out the pages. It was something Meg didn't think about until they came to a gas stop and they both left the car to stretch, when he tossed it into the trashcan by the pumps. From where she stood at the gas tank, Meg stared at the leather bound book resting on top of the overflowing garbage.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't need this any more," he muttered, leaning against the front of the car with his back to her. The Impala was rumbling up the road in their direction and Meg let the gas handle go. Eyes on Castiel's back, she reached out and fished the journal out, tossing it through the door and into the back seat. She knew the angel. He'd regret what he did in the coming days and she had her own attachment to the journal.

Sam parked on the other side and nodded to them before plunging into conversation. "Crowley was specific, huh?"

Castiel nodded and gestured around the gas station. "It makes sense. The next direction was this way."

Meg rested her hands on the hood of her car and cracked her neck. "A few miles up the road and that doesn't smack of a trap to anyone?"

"It does." Sam unlocked the trunk and pulled out a bandoleer of knives, including Ruby's knife. He fit it to his belt and looked at her. "Which is why someone has to stay close by but not in the fight."

"Me?" Meg's eyes were like sharp knives on their own. "Why me?"

He didn't answer for a bit, until she came around the Impala and came toe to toe with him, surprisingly intimidating. "Because you're unstable," Sam blurted out and her jaw visibly tightened up. "Even more than Cas."

"Oh, and you're just the epitome of Zen, right?" she snarled and he glared at her. "Big brother is out there, about to likely be killed and you're just chill?"

His hand lifted as if to actually strike her and Castiel caught it. "Knock it off, both of you," he threatened and let Sam go after he nodded. "None of us are ready to do this but we have to find Dean, find out what Azazel and Michael have planned to do with Dean."

He saw Meg's eyes gleam and he bent closer. "Please."

Her eyes went back to brown and she sniffed and looked away. Just in the slant of her hips was she trying to put over that she didn't care. That she was fine.

But he saw her hands tighten, fingers curl into fists and mouth go to a thin line, and knew she was far from it.

"What's your plan?" he asked Sam instead.

* * *

The Impala rumbled as Sam kept it creeping forward, eyes on the old bungalow just off the road. A van had been parked beside the house, with no one in it. The door was open, swaying back and forth as the chilled wind began to blow. It was a scene out of a horror movie, Sam thought to himself, putting the car in park and getting out.

The second his foot hit the ground, an old man burst out of the front door, his head dripping with blood.

"Sam Winchester!" he shouted. "I know you! Help me!"

Sam didn't care that the man had just given away the element of surprise. He needed his help and after failing so miserably at Chuck's, Sam had to be of use. They were midway to each other, when Sam saw the laceration at the crown of his head and knew that the back of his skull was likely opened. He opened his mouth to call for Castiel when a blur moved past him and snatched the man by his throat.

"I told you not to run, that company was coming." Dean's voice resembled that of a parent upset with a child. "What were you thinking?"

He snapped the man's neck almost casually and then dropped him to the ground. Sniffing, he gave him a kick to get him out of the way and then looked up. The corners of his brother's eyes creased a little in amusement and if it wasn't for how his eyes swirled yellow, Sam would have thought it was Dean. Only Dean.

But that look was Azazel and just under it was Michael.

_Where was his brother?_

His brother's face looked upset. "Oh Sam. You look all lost without your brother. You need a hug? Come on, give us a hug." He reached out and Sam flinched back, causing the smirk to grow. Azazel used Dean's body with eerie similarity to how Dean would have, wiggling his fingers in the air. "Don't tell me you never wondered what it would be like for Dean to be on the receiving end for a change?" He laughed. "Of possession, of course."

"You took my brother. You didn't think I came here to chat, did you?"

"Do I look that stupid?" Azazel walked around him and leaned on the Impala. "You're here to make sure I don't kill hunters, right?"

He lifted a blood stained hand and studied his nails before he dropped it and rolled his eyes. "Because I have to tell you, you're not doing a very good job of that."

"You possessed my brother, you killed Nyx and took Kevin."

"Ah well. You might find that I didn't kill Nyx." At Sam's stunned look, Azazel shrugged. "You did. You and your brother. Just by getting attached to the little tyke. You know what Dean thought? In this little head of his?" He reached up and tapped his temple. "That he was responsible for her. Can you imagine? A hunter responsible for some freak like that. You and him, Sam, you get people killed."

Sam stared. "No."

"But onto business. I really wasn't looking for just you, Sam. Where's Meg?" Azazel looked around. With Dean's more youthful features, his demonic eyes seemed to glow brighter. "I hope she came. I'm sure my little birdies were seeing right when she drove up here with you and the angel to try to stop me from getting to those hunters."

"After everything you did…"

"I thought she'd be right here." Azazel ignored Sam and leaned back on the Impala. "All eager to try to get revenge for my having that bastard of hers killed."

Sam judged the distance between them and circled a little. Still suspicious, Azazel mirrored him and didn't seem to notice how exposed his back was.

Or so Sam thought.

"I assume someone is going to be sneaking up on me at some point?" Azazel asked, bored with his yellow eyes flicking over Sam. "The angel or the demon?"

"Dean, I know you can hear me."

"Oh enough." Azazel flicked his hand and sent Sam to his knees in crushing pain. "Did you really think you could just get me out of here? Your brother isn't _you_ , Sammy. He always believed he wasn't special and guess what?" His voice lowered. "He wasn't."

Sam panted for breath. "Dean. Don't do this."

"Oh, Sam. Sam, Sam, Sammy." Azazel crouched down in front of him. "Your brother's in here, Sammy. Would you like to leave a message? I'll see that he gets it. "

* * *

His hands tracing over the rock, Kevin deciphered what he could of the tablet. It was enough that he'd been threatened by the demon, worse when now he had no purpose. God wouldn't be in his ear, whispering of everything he needed to do. He was alone.

He had memorized all of the tablets by now, easily figuring it out with what he had left in his head. But maybe there was something he missed. "I can do this, and maybe find a way of fixing this. Maybe he left a message behind."

What he had told Azazel, he thought, was almost useless. He had felt the demon's excitement about the spell he had read the very first time and knew he might be wrong about that. Azazel wanted him to figure out ways into the Lethe, and the keys had been in the demon tablet's footnotes. The words would be useless without the ingredients, Kevin hoped.

The van door swung open and he felt hard hands grab him by his shoulders. "Keep your head down and don't talk." Meg's voice was now a sound of beauty to him, and Kevin groped in his darkness for her.

"Meg. How'd you find me?"

"I smelled human blood, it was an easy guess." She roughly pulled him after her.

"Meg. I… I can't see."

The demon's fingers touched his temples and he could hear the snarl she gave. "So what? Get your ass out here with me."

He was jostled to the side and pulled through to the ground. Meg's one hand had him by his coat collar and was pulling him, ignoring his stumbles, and he made soft sounds of protest as he went, the pain in his head increasing with each step. Hearing the sound of voices, he started to drag his feet but Meg gave him another shove.

"Did…"

"Shut up and get in the car and don't make a sound," Meg's voice was behind him and he found himself propelled forward face first into what he thought was her car. "I mean it."

Kevin heard the door slam and in the face of her surly rescue tried not to feel like a lump of passed off meat. His fingers caught on something sticky and metallic that smelled of blood and he made a face.

"That better be animal blood."

* * *

Sam circled Azazel, keeping in time with the creature wearing his brother's face. With Dean's smirk, his face was somehow sinister because of the demon and he clenched Ruby's knife tighter.

"I won't let you take him."

"You already did." Azazel tapped his finger against his cheek. "It's a funny thing. Being inside of Dean. It is less used than you would be, I guess."

Sam swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.

"Oh, that's right, Sam. I know everything. Every time you were possessed and sometimes it was because dear big brother just couldn't let you die, could he?"

The face creased into deeper lines as Dean's smirk widened and Azazel used it perfectly on the handsome face to seem at once menacing. For anyone else, running would have been an option. But all Sam could do was circle and pray to see some slice of his brother inside.

"You don't know everything."

"No?" He sucked in a deep, thoughtful breath. "I do know that I'm going to make sure every hunter is dead before the month is out. Dean's got a world of knowledge in this brain of his, of phone numbers, hiding spots, places of business, and they won't know what hit them."

Sam stopped moving. "No."

"I'll leave you though. Then there's the demons and Eve's little experiments. I'll stop her eventually, after she's done infecting them." He ran his hand over his chin. "Because the best part of my winning is you, Sam, and that pesky angel and Meg. Ultimately, I'll be out there winning when you're scrambling to get the nerve to kill me."

"I know you're in there, Dean," Sam whispered. "Come on, show me a sign."

"You think your brother is in here?" Azazel shuddered and his eyes became bright as they changed colour. "He doesn't deserve to see you."

"Let him go."

"We had a deal." Michael was using Dean now, Sam could tell by the slight inflection in his voice and the almost monotone hum that followed. "Don't make me go back on that, boy."

Sam betrayed Castiel by flicking his eyes to the side and the angel was caught mid-strike. Michael hauled him close. "Oh, baby brother." He almost spat in Castiel's face. "In the back?"

"Let Dean go. You took him under…" Castiel began.

"Doesn't matter. If I had been just an angel, maybe I would have cared but I'm something far worse than that, Castiel." Michael squeezed. "Far worse!"

He caught Sam's approach out of the corner of his eye and with a flick of his fingers sent him spiralling into the Impala, his body crunching against the metal.

"You left my brother to rot in a cage. You let _her_ shut the gates and trap us all in here, in this miserable place! All because you went against what you were trained to do. Because you fell in love with that demon bitch!" Michael threw Castiel to the ground. "We could have been so much more but the Lethe is closed to us now. Without the proper links to it, it is useless! I'm useless!"

He began to slam his fist into Castiel's face again and again. Every-time Castiel's head rocked back from a blow, Michael would yank him upwards to meet the next crunching impact. There was something morbid about how willingly Castiel took the punishment.

"Why couldn't you have just died when you were supposed to!"

Beside the car, Meg palmed her angel sword and debated on a throw. All she had to do was get the right angle but with Castiel in the way she couldn't risk hitting him as well. He wasn't even fighting Michael the way he should have, as if worried that if he did something he would also hurt Dean, that it would set off Michael's rage so he attacked Sam again. Meg had to be the one to do something, she realized. So caught up in planning the logistics of a throw, she didn't see Dean's body moving until suddenly she was thrown to the ground.

Yellow eyes glared down at her instead of green. "You disappoint me, daughter."

"Seems to be a running theme," Meg gasped out, struggling to pull the fingers from her throat. Castiel was lying limp on the ground still. Azazel squeezed so she had to look at him.

"You slept with an angel, turned away from Lucifer and denied what I brought you up to be. You let the rest of your family down. So what kind of demon are you?" he asked as he used his other hand to smack her face repeatedly. Meg took it, trying to reach for her knife.

"Just a demon." She gave up on reaching as he hauled her close and breathed in her face.

"But for all of that, I can forgive it because you did bring something I can use," Azazel murmured and he lifted his own angel sword, laying it flat to her arm. Bending her arm uncomfortably, he fished into his pockets and pulled out a plastic flask before he began to slice. The blade cut a neat line at the vein and he heard her cry out. "Just a little experiment I'm concocting. Not too much yet. Just a little."

After all this time experiencing an angel blade's fire, Meg hadn't expected it to burn so much as Azazel bled her into a small vial. "Something your prophet helped me on. If this works, I'll be back for all of you, Meg."

He jerked her arm down and pulled her up to press a rough kiss to her mouth. "See you soon, sweetheart."

Meg spat out the taste of his mouth as he rose off of her and turned to Castiel.

"Make sure she keeps that blood in one place, Castiel. I'd hate to have to bleed her out in pieces."

The angel was straining to pick himself up from the ground, cradling his dislocated arm as it healed. On the pavement, Meg clenched her arm and stared in shock at where Azazel had been while her head spun. Behind them, Sam used the Impala to pull himself up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

"What do we do now?" Meg asked. Across from her, Castiel grabbed his sword and sheathed it again, looking at the path of destruction that had been lain. He reached down and helped her up, facing Sam as well. The hunter's eyes were haunted by what he had seen in his brother's body. He looked at them both, coming to some decision.

"We have to find a way to kill him," he said.

Castiel's head turned a little. "Sam, Dean is still in there."

"I know and I know what he would have me do if he couldn't regain control. He bargained for my life and I'm not going to let him suffer the way I had to before." Sam took in a long, deep breath. "I have to save his soul, if I can't save the rest of him."


	15. Part 15: Glowing (When Angels Touch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Meg's instability gathering momentum, Castiel resorts to his own methods to find answers and the angels finally find the monsters responsible for the attack. Sam focuses on trying to find a way to help his brother, but an offer from Azazel begins to tempt him.

The garage shook from its cement foundation to the rotted wood roof overhead, wind buffeting it from all sides and causing the structure to groan and creak loudly. There was a loud boom as the rear door burst open, and a small brunette crashed through. Her body crashed into an open bay, stopped only by the window frame, and she fell into the pile of wood chips and old abandoned junk.

The window overhead shattered from the impact of her body, and pelted inward all around her. Something close by shrieked, shattering the remaining cracked glass windows, and she buried her head in her hands to protect herself.

When the shrieking stopped, the building also stopped shaking. There was a deep pause that hung in the air. For a moment, everything was suddenly _waiting_ for something to happen and had taken simultaneous breaths of anticipation.

Meg never noticed the tension in the air. She was more focussed on surviving what she had started. She exhaled sharply as she picked herself up, shaking wood and straw out of her dark hair, plucking tiny glass shards out of her palms. Despite what she was, despite how used to fighting she was, everything _ached._ If the scratches and bruises were any clear sign, she was going to have to fight harder if she was going to live. As she moved into the center of the garage, she looked around for anything she could use. The garage was full of machinery, the old mechanic out in the front yard dead from a broken neck after getting in the way, and there was no chance of another human stumbling in.

She patted her hip and felt the familiar warm hilt of the angel sword. _Not yet,_ she thought to herself and then loudly taunted, "Is that it? That was your best hit?"

Stepping through the shattered door, the black-clad Abaddon stretched her arms over her head and breathed a loud, girlish sigh. She rotated her neck, cracking bones and muscle with satisfying crunches, and her sigh turned to a groan of pleasure. A groan that became almost sinister and growling, when her jewel-bright eyes focussed on the other demon crouched near the stalls. Abaddon's red lips twisted into a grin and she began to wiggle her bruised fingers, broken joints resetting, while walking in a semi-circle towards the centre.

Meg wiped at her split lip and then licked the blood from her hand, managing to smile. "You missed me, Abaddon?"

"Oh, little girl, you have no idea. No idea how boring it has been without you." Abaddon leaned back against the tow truck, running her fingers over the pulling chains and hooks that hung from the rafters. She stroked them while eyeing Meg, as if tempted to pull them out and wrap them around the younger demon. "At least you keep life more… interesting. After a while, those Winchesters? The angels? Crowley? Ugh. So predictable."

Meg tracked her movements carefully.

"But you? Meg, you were always fun," Abaddon flirted, flicking her power out with a snap of her fingers. It hit Meg in her chest, forcing her to her knees again. The other demon moved fast, a blur of leather and denim, and her leg came flying up with her pointed toe aiming for the stomach. Meg dodged the blow before springing to her feet and punching her fist into Abaddon's side. The impact sent Abaddon flying into the truck again and Meg backed off, not trusting her to be that easy to hit again.

"So, you and Azazel huh?" she asked, panting for breath as she watched the redhead straighten up from the crunched metal.

"Mmm, well. I'm old school. Knight and all that fun stuff. Old school was how you used to be, remember?" Abaddon pulled a knife and let the sharp edge rest against her chin, tapping repeatedly. "So when you called me to meet you here, I thought for sure it was a death wish. He told me I couldn't kill you but he didn't say anything about having fun."

She headed for Meg, who held her ground until the Knight was a few feet away before she attacked. Her elbow dug into her stomach and she smacked her in the jaw, only to feel Abaddon's own hand slap at her cheek. The impact caused Meg's teeth to cut her inner cheek and she tasted blood as her head was flung to the side. She heard the soft chuffing to Abaddon's breathing to let her know her own hit had struck its mark. As a hand just brushed her hair, she yanked backwards to put distance between them. Abaddon watched her with barely concealed hate before she tilted her head back and laughed.

"Oh, Meg. Really. Hair pulling and slapping?" She lifted a hand to her own bloody mouth. "Though you've got some spunk still in you, huh?

"You think I called you to give in?" Meg arched an eyebrow. "Sorry. You just got on my case enough for me to want you dead."

"Here I was thinking it was because Azazel ordered your daughter's death. He did it just to watch the way it would twist you around. And rumour has it?" Abaddon leaned close to finish in a stage whisper, "It worked."

Meg unzipped her jacket and let her hand rest on the hilt of her angel sword. Abaddon caught the gesture and shook her head with a knowing grin.

"Oh, I get it. You have something he gave you. So sad that not all of us are lucky enough to be an angel's little whore." Lewdly, she ran her tongue over her teeth and the edge of the knife. "Still, he must be good in bed. Knowing your standards."

She swiped her hand through the air suddenly and caught Meg on the shoulder, the knife carving into the protection of her leather jacket until it hit flesh. Meg hissed and dropped to a knee to get the knife out and Abaddon followed her down, grabbing her by the collar of her coat.

"Maybe," Abaddon continued gently as Meg struggled against her, "I should have given the Winchesters' pet a trial run. See what all the fuss was about."

"You're not his type," Meg snapped, trying to get her hand to her sword. "He likes 'em demon and pretty, but not stupid."

The Knight's smirk dropped at the insult. "You betrayed your own kind, Meg. For nothing."

"I'm a demon, remember?"

"Even demons have standards." Her one hand gripped Meg by her chin and she lifted her closer at the same time the knife began to dig deeper on its own, causing Meg to groan. "Don't you remember how it was? Being a demon the way you were all those years? All the blood and the horror and the absolute purity of what we were doing?" Abaddon's grin faded into a dreamy smile as she stroked Meg's lips with her thumb. "Everything we followed, everything we did. You knew how could it could be."

"Yeah, and we lost. Over and over again. Azazel fell to humans the first time. Lucifer is still caged. Crowley and you were fucked over by the Winchesters. Hell lost, Abaddon. We— I knew it was over. I simply found something better to believe in after that lost cause," Meg answered, knowing it was the wrong thing to say when Abaddon's eyes began to glitter.

"Better? Better!" She lifted her knee abruptly so she knocked Meg in the jaw and the impact set Meg's head rocking back on her shoulders. Abaddon let her drop completely away and turned her back on her as she walked a few feet away. "You found something better?"

Meg pushed up on her hands and knees, spitting out a mouthful of blood as the garage continued to spin out of focus around her. Just in her peripheral vision, she saw Abaddon turn towards her again.

"You what? Fell in love?" Abaddon's eyes were now black when Meg didn't deny it. "And not with a human; that would have been to plan. No. You fell in love with an angel. I don't know whether to throw up, torture you for it, or kill him to see your pain."

Rolling her eyes, Meg finally stood up. "Come on, Abaddon. You're telling me that the way you blindly loved the others, like Lucifer, was right?"

"That is honest love. It is who we are. We love our masters," Abaddon snapped. "He created us all to serve him as we were. You and that angel? Thanks to that disgusting display, you've become an abomination after all and that little bastard of yours deserved…"

Before she could finish, Meg rushed her and captured her red hair in a hand, forcing her head back and slamming her other fist repeatedly into her stomach. It sent Abaddon to her knees this time and she screeched as she tried to grapple with the smaller woman. Meg kept out of the reach just barely, fingers tight in Abaddon's hair so she could hit her without losing her.

Abaddon couldn't speak and fight at the same time and it helped Meg focus on doing what she came to do. She had thought she had a chance until that human earlier had interfered in the yard. Finding out that the knight's immortality was still very intact meant she had to keep herself truly focussed and rethink her plan. But battling an older demon with Abaddon's kind of strength wouldn't let her have extra time.

She simply had to move faster.

The angel sword flashed into her hand and she slashed down, just barely missing the Knight's heart as it punctured to the shoulder. Abaddon hissed, knocking Meg backwards with a head-butt to her stomach before her elbow cracked up into the side of her face. Meg chuffed, air knocked out of her, and she fell to the ground, cradling her injured jaw. Abaddon growled and stalked towards her, dropping the angel sword to the ground and grabbing a hunk of Meg's hair to haul her to her knees. Meg grabbed at her hands, feeling the nails gouging into her scalp, and Abaddon hit her again, this time in the temple hard enough that all Meg could see were bursts of colour in her vision.

Letting her fall forward, the older demon booted her hard in the stomach.

"What the hell did you think would happen!" she shouted, fury making her voice into a high-pitched shriek.

She slammed the toe of her boot repeatedly into Meg's stomach, causing her body to jerk up with each blow, and the relentlessness of each blow didn't stop. The backbite of her power snarled around Meg's body to make her feel the pain two-fold and Abaddon's demonic darkness twisted deeper into Meg's nerve endings, wrenching on her just to hear the cry of pain the demon gave when it became almost too much.

"Stupid little idiot!" she snarled, her teeth bared and her red hair spilling into her eyes. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Meg blindly reached for her angel sword but Abaddon kicked it away. Instinctively Meg covered her face with her hands as she saw the Knight's boot lift again, higher this time. The impact of her next kick against her spine sent the small demon to her face in the dirt floor, Abaddon's power racing up and down her body to make each muscle scream at Meg to make it stop.

"I can't kill you but I can make you suffer before giving you to Azazel. Your precious angel won't be able to recognize you when I'm through." Abaddon put the heel of her boot in the small of Meg's back and began to grind it slowly downwards, as if stubbing out a cigarette. Feeling the bones cracking, Meg dug her toes and fingers in the dirt and tried to pull herself up, only to be kicked back down again.

The urge to call out for Castiel suddenly came to her. If anything else to relieve that agony as Abaddon's power began to burrow itself into her body. The biokinetic charges were slowly changing into a torturous wave, wrapping around her insides and twisting till a fiery burn went through her. She was pinned, being forced to suffer, and she knew that Abaddon was hoping she would call out for Castiel.

Not just to try to kill him but to prove a point.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed where Abaddon was standing. The chains hung down, tow hooks and rusted metal glinting in the dying light, and Meg turned her head towards the angel sword again. Mind reeling quickly over what she could do, Meg's hand outstretched a little. If only she could move the other demon.

But she felt the pressure on her spine increasing, threatening to pop vertebra out, as the boot heel dug deeper and deeper.

"Maybe I should make you scream his name and beg him to save you." Abaddon's disgust was apparent in the way she had reduced her voice to a whisper. "You're a pet to him, Meg, and it is making you weak. A weak and useless little tool."

Meg's hand stretched out until her shoulder screamed in pain and through the pain throbbing up her spine she focussed her own power on the angel sword. "That's where you're wrong," Meg whispered and Abaddon growled, flipping her around underneath her. She straddled the smaller woman and lifted her up, close enough that Meg could smell the reek of blood and sulphur on her breath.

"I'm not wrong about you, am I?" Abaddon almost cooed, dragging a red nail down Meg's cheek.

"You think I need him to save me," Meg hissed as she gave one last telekinetic pull. With a sound like a whip crack, the angel sword flew to her fingers. She just saw Abaddon's eyes widen before she buried it deep into Abaddon's throat.

The Knight chortled, caught on a shriek that wouldn't come as orange sparks went through her, threatening to but not quite finishing her off. Meg was able to get her foot between them and she kicked her off, and at the same her power caught hold of the chains and twisted down. The metal screeched as the chains rubbed together and fell, tangling around Abaddon's arms and throat. As she tried to struggle in the air, the tow hooks buried into her pale skin. Meg spun to her stomach and used her renewing power to force the tow truck to turn on and immediately it began pulling the chains through the crank. As Abaddon struggled to free herself from the steel and iron, the chains began lifting her higher in the air.

Spitting out more blood, Meg stared up at her as she rested wearily on her elbows. The angel sword fell to Meg's feet and Abaddon began to pant, struggling to say anything as her throat started to heal over. When the feeling finally came back to her feet, Meg picked herself up and stood across from Abaddon as the demon fought to free herself. The garbled curses were starting to gain strength and Meg quickly slit an open wound on her arm, pushing on the already bruised skin and veins to pump blood to the surface. Dribbling it out in a quick circle, she avoided Abaddon's kicking feet and made a devil's trap, finishing just as the wound started to close.

"I'd make a 'how's it hanging joke'," Meg said as she pulled her sleeve down again. "But I don't think you'd laugh."

Abaddon's throaty gasps were slowly starting to sound normal. "You think this will hold me?"

"I'm going to make sure this capture sticks," Meg said. "Make sure you're stuck. Unable to get back together."

Abaddon's bloody snarl turned into a smirk. "So you can do what? Kill me?" When Meg stumbled and went to a knee, her tortured insides begging her to stop, Abaddon noticed the gasping she was doing. She threw back her head and laughed. "You don't have that sort of power."

"I don't need to kill you," Meg answered calmly. Reaching into her pocket, she was thankful that her cellphone was unbroken. Holding it up, she began to snap a few pictures from different angles. "Your rule is based on fear, right?"

She held the phone up close to show that it was Abaddon in the photos and finished off her photos. Ignoring the pain, she dialled a number and sent the photos off. "So how scared do you think all those demons will be when they figure I took care of you? Just one of me."

Abaddon began to struggle and Meg smirked.

"Rumours will start. Whispers. Suddenly big bad Abaddon is just another demon."

"You little bitch."

Meg continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Crowley couldn't kill her, Winchesters beat her but never for long. Angels did get her down but she survived." She turned around and picked up her angel sword, dragging metal over her hand to clean it. She looked around the room and spotted an old canister full of oil. Kicking it over, she waited until the black sticky tar was scattered on the floor before she carried it back towards Abaddon. Using the blood on her hand, she began to mark up the canister with a mixture of Enochian and demonic sigils. "But an insignificant black-eyed demon took her down. Exorcised her sorry ass even though it took all night and a lot of torture. Set her in this bottle."

Abaddon's eyes widened as Meg's grin turned vicious.

"I'm not giving you the luxury of going back to the Pit. Or anywhere else. It's old school but I'm sure you'll give me a hard time. That's the problem with ruling through fear, Abbadon, no one will want to interfere to save you. Crowley definitely won't."

The psychological threat worked and Abaddon's usually triumphantly mad grin was gone. "So what are you going to do? Rule Hell?"

"Oh no." Meg raised up on her tip-toes so she was close to the other demon. "Just shake it up a little bit."

* * *

Castiel twitched the curtain out of the way and peered out, squinting at the neon vacancy sign as if it was the cause of his problems. Resting his hand on the glass pane, he forced himself to look as calm and unaffected as possible. The way he used to be, years ago, when he had been needed like this. Since Sam and Castiel had resumed stalking Azazel, they were on nearly constant look out for trouble. Warning the hunters had been easy; lying about who was coming after them was harder. The demons were slowly starting to come back out. The monsters were likely regroup. Eve was likely to get some sort of revenge.

But the only thing Sam could think of was his brother.

How could Sam live with himself if Dean had to die to keep Azazel and Michael from following through on whatever plan it was he had? That was the question Sam asked repeatedly, even in his sleep now, and at first Castiel had no answers that could help. He gave up trying when he realized Sam didn't want an answer.

Castiel's own thoughts were stuck on Meg and where she was, what she was doing. Why she had left them all behind and then kept herself so hidden. What was she doing out there?

The sound of coughing behind him distracted him from thinking too much about that frustrating demon.

Kevin had downed painkillers, after Castiel's healing touch could not bring him any comfort, and collapsed onto a bed to listen to the low drone of the television. The misery of his own blindness had been ongoing for the four days since Amarillo, and he didn't say much about how badly it was affecting him. Only that he had to try to remember what the tablets had said and the way he kept to himself meant that he wanted to be left alone to think it through.

Castiel wondered what Azazel and Michael had said to have him so willing to give in but Sam wouldn't let him ask.

Sam's care of the prophet bordered on the near obsessive. He was so determined for someone to live through this that it felt like all his focus was on the younger man and Castiel did nothing to stop it. He could only pay so much attention now. With his own ear to the ground and the constant feeding of Angel Radio to his brain, he almost felt overloaded by what the angels reported to him. It did keep him busy and he needed that.

With time on his hands, he would think about everything that had happened and he didn't want that now.

"You looking for Meg?" Sam asked suddenly from where he was reading.

"I've not heard from her since Amarillo. Tonight was the first night she sent me a text." Castiel let the curtain fall back to place and sighed, sinking into a chair across from Sam. He checked his phone for the hundredth time, saw that it was blank, and put it on the table. He noticed Sam's frown. "Have you found anything regarding Eve?"

Sam waved his hands in the air and looked up from his laptop. "I only have one thought and it is not a good one."

"Feel free."

"What's the chances of you creating an eclipse?" Sam smiled weakly. "Maybe we could toss her back through a doorway."

Castiel stared at him without changing expression.

"Just a theory."

"We tie her blood to Purgatory. Suck her back in, this time in reverse." Kevin piped up suddenly, his slur deepened by the drugs. "I mean, she got out the first time using demons. Maybe you can send her back using something similar. Not a good idea but better than nothing."

"Maybe." Castiel leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed at his eyes again. "Then there's the problem with Dean."

"Azazel and Michael," Sam corrected. "Maybe we can save him."

"They want in the Lethe. With all those souls, with Hell, and because Michael has access to Heaven, he'd be strong," Kevin said and then he sighed. "You guys talk about it. I need sleep."

Sam leaned back and looked at Castiel. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure how he would absorb souls from the Lethe."

"Same way you did from Purgatory."

Castiel shook his head, openly troubled by the memory. Sam could tell in the way his eyes darted all over the room that that still was a touchy subject for the angel. "That was different."

"How?"

"There was no god there waiting for me. I could take what I wanted. You know what happened with the Lethe. It wasn't ruled by angels or demons or monsters. It was a god older than any we ever knew. But Azazel or Michael may be mad enough to try, especially if she still sleeps."

"Didn't she, well, 'sleep', maybe because of Nyx?" Castiel winced and looked away. Sam continued on, "Because, Cas, she's…."

"It's late," Castiel said abruptly to stop him. "I need to look for Meg."

Reaching out, Sam grabbed him by the wrist. "Cas, you need to talk about this."

The sound of a car pulling up made them look out the window, Sam pushing the curtain out of the way. The Cougar rattled as its engine was killed and Meg stepped out, using her hip to check the door shut. She looked around and both of them watched as she hefted a bag onto her shoulder as she walked to the Impala. Sam tapped on the window to get her attention and she walked to the window, peering in at them. Castiel stared back, noticing the way she was favouring her arm when she reached for the door. She stumbled her way in and gave them a gruff 'hey', dropping the bag at Castiel's feet before sitting down on the end of the second bed.

"Don't mind me," she said as she poked at an open wound on her neck. "Just a demon who had a rough night."

Castiel and Sam shared a look and the hunter closed his laptop. "You look like you had one." He gestured at her battered face with its ugly bruises and the swollen lower lip jutting out from below a bloody nose.

"Just regular fun times for me," she said, propping a leg up onto the bed and unzipping her boot. A muffled tremor from the bag made them look though she didn't. Meg waved her hand at it. "Gift for Cas."

He leaned over to open the drawstrings. Whatever he saw made him zip it closed again with an annoyed frown. "I told you not to."

"Yeah?" She toed off one boot then worked on the other, revealing a grossly swollen ankle. "Missed that memo."

Still glaring at her, Castiel scooped up the bag. "I'll be back."

"From where?" Sam asked, confused.

"From storing this where it needs to go." Castiel waved his hand at Meg. "Stay here."

She gave him a mocking salute and he was gone. At Sam's insistent staring, she rolled her eyes. "Abaddon. I took a piece of her she needs."

"Like what?"

"Ever see trapped demon essence?" Meg asked.

"No."

"Never will then," she said, causing him to stammer for something witty to snap back at her. With a pop in the air, Castiel reappeared. "Care to share where you put her? Stored with the other weapons of Heaven? "

"I think you gave me that canister so that it couldn't be found." He gave her a reproaching look and sat down again, putting an obvious amount of distance between them. "So why should I tell you?"

"Touchy," Meg said. "Almost make me think you're mad at me for taking care of that problem when you all couldn't."

"Yes, and most of us aren't stupid enough to go against a Knight of Hell on our own when we aren't strong enough," Castiel snapped. Meg slapped her boot on the ground, her eyes almost glinting with angry. He stared back, not looking away from her until Meg gave a disgusted sigh and turned back to pulling off her socks.

Sensing the tension, Sam cleared his throat. "Kevin? You want to grab a bite?"

"Huh?" The prophet rolled over to his stomach and his hands shakily wandered over the bedside table to grip it. "Yeah… yeah sure."

"Seeing-eye moose?" Meg asked and Kevin sighed as he reached out to put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Something like that."

They were gone as quietly as Sam could manage and the minute the door closed Meg stood up and removed her torn shirt. Castiel watched her toss her clothing to the bed, seeing the scratches and the bruises. Unlike days before, he kept his distance and only left his chair to lock the door.

"You going to say anything?" Meg asked his turned back.

"What's there to say?" He sat down on the bed to watch her and folded his hands over his belly. "You did exactly what you said you would do."

"And I did it to keep her off our backs," she said smugly. "Did a damn good job."

He didn't smile. "You could have died."

"Yeah?" Meg winced as her bloody shoulder was torn by her own movement. "Didn't though."

He looked away as she wriggled out of her jeans next. "You said I didn't need to protect you from any of them."

"You really want to fight about this?" Meg snapped. "You knew what I was going to do. Live with it."

"I don't like it," he said.

"I wasn't asking you to." Her eyes wandered over him as she unclipped her bra. "Come on, Cas. I let you play guardian angel over the last remaining Winchester and the prophet. You telling me it wasn't fun?"

His head turned finally. "I spent most of my time worrying over you. So no. It wasn't whatever you consider fun."

The sharp edge to his voice made Meg give him a hard look, trying to see what his expressionless face was hiding. Castiel simply watched her until she scoffed and tossed her remaining clothing at his feet before she limped to the bathroom. Closing his eyes, he took in deep breaths to calm himself and listened as she began to run the shower. The pipes creaked and groaned, but over it he could hear her talking to herself, mostly cursing her own stupidity for ever getting involved.

Typical, he thought, for Meg to want her own way.

When his temper finally cooled, Castiel leaned forward to pick up her discarded clothing from the edge of the bed and assessed the damage. Deep gouges, burn marks, and spots that smelt of blood and sulphur. What had happened he could only guess, but he knew the blood wasn't just Abaddon's.

The nagging thought that he was lucky that she was still alive was so sudden and so infuriating that he angrily slapped the shirt into the trash. He could have not seen her again, could have been left all alone with what he had to do, because of her pride in wanting to take down a Knight of Hell by herself. Concern quickly changing to hurt and anger, he stalked to the bathroom door. One hand lifted, ready to bang it off its hinges, but he stopped himself, fingers flexing until his palm was flat to the door. He knew Meg and he knew if he stormed in that it would be the wrong move.

 _Damn her,_ he thought as he laid his fingers on the door and pressed a little, but Castiel didn't force it open like he planned. Resting his forehead on the frame next, he inhaled deeply and then slowly turned around. He was ready to wait for her to come out before he tried to reason with her again. He just doubted Meg would see his side of it.

Opening his eyes, Castiel jumped as through the window he saw a woman in a Biggerson's uniform staring at him. At first they only stared at each other, before she reached out and drew a sigil with the condensation on the window. Castiel stared back and read the sigil as he came closer, recognizing that she was an angel. It took longer to see who she was; even though every angel knew each other, knowledge burned into them from the first steps they took, it had been years since he had seen Ambriel.

Behind him, the bathroom door creaked open and he heard the hiss of steam being released, smelled the soap on Meg's skin as she stepped beside him, towelling her long hair and still only covered by another towel. He glanced at her, seeing the fresh bruises and scratches on her wet skin, and his fingers twitched, ready to touch her. But Meg stepped away as she eyed the other angel and he lost his nerve, hand dropping to his side.

"Friend of yours?" she asked, not noticing how he was staring at her now.

"Ambriel. She's belongs to a special Garrison. She's a Power."

"And they're what? The Navy Seals of you guys? Bet that's exciting," Meg commented, already bored as she walked to the window and closed the curtains so the angel couldn't look in. Her audacity at first stunned Castiel but also caused a faint smile he couldn't hide. "What does she want?"

"Likely to report on what the angels have found."

Meg frowned in concentration as she squirmed her damp body into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. "To you? You taking charge of Heaven or something?"

"You're not the only one who has been busy," he said. "You left me behind. I had more to do than just worry about you."

Meg glared up at him as she fit a sweater on and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Whatever."

The dismissive way she did it was deliberate but, despite how irritated he was, he stayed by the window. Castiel waited for her to finish dressing before he finally zapped himself out, forcing her to go on foot on her own. He frowned again when he noticed that the angels had already found Kevin and Sam. The two men were both seated on the Impala hood, Kevin's blind head turning this way and that to listen, and not only Ambriel but three other angels plus Camael stood close by.

"Brother," Camael said first, smiling at him. "You're well?"

"Yes." He heard the motel door slam shut, heard Meg's muttered cursing, but kept his attention mostly on Camael and Ambriel. He didn't bother with being pleasant. "You've heard something?"

"We did as you asked. We tracked and we waited." When Ambriel spoke, her voice was lilting and soft but he knew it hid a steel in her that all specialist Angels from that order would have. Like Ephraim, she would live only for her purpose. "We found the monsters Michael had kept with him but he wasn't near them. He's left them behind to do whatever it is he is doing."

"Where would they go?" Sam asked and she looked up at him then at Camael. The other angel nodded and she spoke slower this time, obviously thinking the humans were too slow to catch up.

"South. One of us was near the prophet Chuck's house before he was murdered." Eyes like amber focussed on Castiel again. "You'll remember, brother, that there is always a guard near a prophet. To protect them."

Her eyes darted to Kevin and Castiel realized she was inferring he had failed the young man. He didn't need the reminder. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw Meg sitting on the hood of her car, clearly wanting to say something. He waved his hand at his side to stop her. As much as she liked to irritate him, he had long since figured out that she did it out of habit; if she sensed a threat she was oddly possessive over him and thought that the right to irritate him was hers alone. Remembering hat obvious affection made his anger with her dim a little.

"Ambriel." Camael's voice sounded harsh. "We are not here to place blame."

She made a face. "Yes, sir, of course. We found the other vampires. We put them out of their infernal misery."

"Where did you find the last monster?" Meg asked. The other angel visibly twitched, looking at Meg with something bordering on hate, and Castiel put himself between them.

"She's with me."

"Oh, we are all very aware of that, Castiel. All of Heaven knows that the demon is with you still." Ambriel folded her arms over her chest. "You should hear the gossip."

"What, you guys have your own version of US Weekly or something, and we're feature couple of the week?" Meg hopped down from the hood and stepped around Castiel. Ambriel's eyes went over the smaller woman, uncertain about what to think as the demon openly looked her up and down.

"Something like that. Why is she here?" she asked Castiel. "We serve you, Castiel. Not a demon. She belongs in a devil's trap."

Castiel's expression didn't change. "Even if it weren't for Azazel and Michael, you are doing this for justice. For the death of my daughter, which Camael agreed was something should never have happened."

"I don't follow," Ambriel admitted nervously. Castiel looked at Meg.

"Without her, we would have never had the opportunity to stop Lucifer before. Meg was Nyx's mother, and I believe she was part of the reason any of you are out of the Lethe now." He stepped close to the younger angel, staring at her in an intimidating way that had her eyes going to the pavement. "So you will show her some respect."

The angel glanced at Meg who was trying not to look smug. "This… this is not how it is done."

Castiel's eyes were like ice. "If the rest of the angels want to help bring Michael and Azazel to heel, then this is how it will be done."

Ambriel growled and disappeared abruptly, Camael and the others following her with a flutter in the air. Meg looked up at Castiel with a wry smile. "I can fight my own battles against your kind, you know that right?"

"I know." He walked around her to the car and looked at Sam instead. "It doesn't mean I can't help."

She rolled her eyes upward. "Well, not to nitpick but letting her finish would have been helpful."

He stopped and gave her an annoyed frown. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"No problem," Meg said with a grin. She moved to follow him and the sound of fluttering behind her made them stop to find Ambriel there again, this time with an angel in the form of a young school girl. Meg raised both eyebrows.

"There goes that fantasy I had."

Ambriel ignored that. "It was Mariel that saw the vampires. But what she saw… has left her ill. She is still recovering."

Castiel gave her a confused look but focussed on the small angel.

"In the house, I saw several of the monsters that disappeared," Mariel said in an almost robotic voice. "One had gone nearly insane but before I could stop him, he was gone. His brothers attacked me and bit me. There were more than five, as Castiel said there were. There were others guarding the perimeter. They all began to follow the monster."

"Where'd they go?" Sam asked. Castiel checked her neck and saw the skin healing over. She wasn't ill and Mariel seemed to be healing fine. The infection of Eve wasn't causing damage in angels at least.

"South. They moved fast but the others saw them dispersing on the highway," Ambriel said for her sister. "The one was headed to Lafayette. Swampland areas. Likely rebuilding a nest if we know vampires. He was one of the infected and would be infecting others."

Castiel nodded and looked at Sam. The hunter uncrossed his legs and stood up. "Have you seen my brother?"

"We lost two of our own brothers tracking him," Ambriel began and Castiel stared at her.

"That didn't answer Sam's question," Meg pointed out. "Or are you just scared to admit he frightens you?"

The angel launched herself at Meg before any could stop her, reaching for her throat and Meg felt her fingers just touch her hair when Castiel grabbed the angel by the back of her jacket and launched her through the air. She fell to her knees and stared at him in shock.

"Enough!" Castiel said, not raising his voice.

Ambriel bristled. "You are defending a demon who dares to insult the Garrison, Castiel!"

"He doesn't need to either," Meg hissed.

"Cool it!" Sam snapped. "We need information, Meg. You're not helping and you…Amber whatever. Meg's been helping us for a lot longer than you."

The angel sniffed. "You'd let an unclean demon help you."

Castiel pushed Meg away. "What else is there, Ambriel?"

"We've sent scouts after Eve, keeping their distance but she is back in the Hundred Mile again. Michael we keep away from. He's insane. They are both too dangerous." She squared her shoulders and so did Mariel. "What would you have me tell the Garrison to do?"

Castiel looked at Sam who cleared his throat. "Follow my brother."

When Ambriel saw Castiel's nod, she disappeared with her sister. The moment she was gone the tension seemed to evaporate from the cold air and Castiel slowly relaxed his stiff posture. Noticing it, Sam sighed and wiped tiredly at his face.

"Come on, Kevin. Let's get you sleeping."

"I don't want to sleep anymore," Kevin whispered. "I dream too much."

"Come on," Sam insisted, helping him down and leading him back, a bag of hamburgers squished in his other hand. Meg eyed them and then looked back up at Castiel as she sat down on the hood of her car again.

"Has she always been like that?" Meg asked. He leaned on against her car and shrugged.

"She used to be worse but she has a very good sense of humour," he said agreeably. Meg arched both eyebrows at that, causing him to say defensively, "She does."

"Hate to see you guys when you aren't feeling funny."

"You would," Castiel said. "Not that you were very friendly."

Meg pointed at herself. "Me demon. You angel. I realize it's hard for you to get that, but it makes a difference," she said after thumping him in the chest with her finger. "Any reason why I should be all aflutter that another angel is in my life? Really, that's just funny, Castiel."

Castiel glared at her and Meg shrugged.

"At least I thought it was funny."

"I know you have a sense of humour," he said. "Though I don't always understand it."

"Jokes are a bit advanced for you, yeah."

"Stop making fun of me," he threatened though he lacked any actual heat behind the words and her grin widened.

"Stop making it so easy." She looked around, tapping her fingers on the metal. Meg's dark eyes went over his face. "We should leave soon then."

Castiel watched the way she moved so carefully and knew that he should get her to slow down. But all he did was fall into step beside her was they followed Kevin and Sam.

"Maybe," he said, trying to appear calmer than he felt.

"Vampires though?" Meg shook her head. "Almost too easy to find them. Just a few can't be too hard."

He swallowed and reluctantly looked over at her, knowing what she wanted. What he wanted, though he would always say an angel was above something so petty as revenge. Castiel knew he wanted it with the same viciousness that Meg felt and it was why he nodded and agreed with her.

* * *

_Missouri…_

"It does no use fighting," the yellow-eyed demon said as he circled the man kneeling in the circle. Every time he tried to run, Azazel would simply snatch him by his neck and pull him back. After four attempts, the man was lucky to be alive with the way the demon would strangle him into submission.

Shaking, the man nodded and stayed on his knees, eyes on the floor to avoid that hellish gaze. Humming to himself in an off-tune way, Azazel walked around the human, keeping just outside the painted circle divided into a pentagram of sigils. The runic lines were etched all over the walls, wards in Enochian and in demonic text, all set to keep prying eyes out. It would be like Crowley or Abaddon to show up now, he thought to himself, and bring with them any number of angels and demons just as curious.

It made him long for the old days when all of this was just being planned, when everything hadn't fallen apart. Azazel was conceited enough to belief that he may be the only one able to fix it.

As he passed his reflection, he gave his new body an almost preening look.

"Well, you are still a pretty boy, Dean." He slapped his own face hard and this time let the human within feel it. He'd taken to tormenting Dean, alongside Michael, whenever things became too mundane. "Though your heart is still a bit worse for wear."

He rubbed at his chest. Like Michael, he had felt something strange invading, tearing into Dean's soul with more power than he could ever possibly hold, and then leaving. Whatever it had left behind something else, an emotion that just sat inside him as if there was a heavy weight within his heart.

It almost felt like hope and Azazel hadn't felt anything like that before.

It was bad enough he was stuck with an angel tied to him but a human's emotions were far worse than any angel's faith.

Inside his head, he felt Michael stir again. It still surprised Azazel. Since they had killed that strange prophet, the angel had been sulking, only coming out to attack Dean or Castiel. Azazel almost thought that the angel was regretting what they had done.

" _Are we ready?"_

"Moment is about right." He looked up at the rising moon critically. "What could it hurt?"

His angel sword slid to his hand and he tapped it impatiently against his thigh. Michael's restlessness began to increase the more Azazel refused to move forward, but the demon liked to savour the fear that was starting to make his victim tremble. The frustration from the past weeks had made him feel a bit more vicious, a bit more likely to savour another's pain. It was just so easy to let his own sense of hate distort his sense.

Standing behind the human man, he slit his throat and let him drop to the ground in a crumpled heap, the gash in his throat pumping blood. One eye on the body, Azazel reached into his pocket and fished out the crumbled sheet of paper. Both he words, written in Kevin Tran's shaky hand writing, and the memories from Dean about Purgatory's ritual, had combined to give Azazel some sense of what to do. Michael's own help had been more instructive; he wanted back to the Lethe just as badly as Azazel. Their reasoning was divided; the only compulsion they shared was to exact revenge on all those who had hurt them.

Inside, he felt Dean's soul move around in the dark corner it still occupied. It was the first time Dean seemed to be paying attention, not holding out hope that his little brother would save him, but Azazel ignored him. The blood was turning cold after all.

 _"Lethaeum ad limen. Tibi dico,"_ he began as he drew a line through the first sigil with his foot and immediately he felt something strange crackle up him, before settling low within the pit of his stomach. The building he was in shook at its foundations and he began to breathe harder in excitement at how quick this was happening. He quickly drew another line through a second sigil.

 _"Lethaeum ad limen. Qui cum exiit dæmonium a sanguine."_ Reaching into his leather coat, Azazel poured the vial of Meg's blood into the pool of the human's blood. Her blood's smell was strange, like an ocean after a storm, and he inhaled curiously before shaking his head and repeating the words again. In reaction, the strange crackling continued and he felt as if his fingertips were turning numb.

Tilting his head, he looked down at his shadowy reflection in the pool of blood and thought he saw something flicker. He had to blink his yellow-eyes several times to clear his head and he began to sway on his feet as all of his energy slowly began to drain away.

 _"Arte Dei. Lethaeum ad limen, tibi dico."_ Beneath his feet, he thought he felt something rumble again. His fingers were turning ice cold now, the sensation bizarre when he could only shakily remember the Lethe and the thoughts of its comfort that were left over inside his soul. Within, Michael was just as confused. Where was the comfort of that place?

 _"Iter tuum. Videam, quæso!"_ He staggered over the next set of words as something clutched hold of his stolen heart and squeezed with what felt like a fist. _"T…t….Tibi…"_

He collapsed to his knees in the blood and felt something cold pass over his head. The draft caressed his face and then with a slap he felt doused by ice, his lungs impossibly suffocated under pressure. There was no water but Azazel knew that he was drowning where he stood and he put his hands to his face, clawing at his skin to try to bring reality into this hallucination.

**_Turn away from this, you freak. This place isn't for you._ **

Neither Michael or Azazel recognized the voice but the demon laughed, even as the power faded from his finger tips. He hadn't finished the spell but he had felt the possibility of it working. He had cracked a doorway open, even if it had been just for a fraction of time.

It meant it could be done.

* * *

As the lonely stretches of highway passed by, unseen to him except for Sam's comment about what road sign they were passing, Kevin fell into a strange waking sleep. His head dropped to his chest and then reared back as he tried to focus on what he was hearing. There was no extra awareness to his senses, no feeling that he could compensate for his destroyed vision. He was in the darkness and the only thing he had to keep him from being afraid was that Sam and Castiel constantly spoke to him. The blindness was terrifying; here he needed to depend on others again, after months of learning to be on his own when he needed it. Before the blindness he had been touched by God and given visions of what to do.

Somehow, those visions had been wrong. It was supposed to end in Chuck's house, he was sure of it; God should have taken care of the monsters and the twisted creature that had once been a favoured son. Instead, Chuck had let himself be killed with a serenity that bordered on sacrificial. Kevin hadn't been able to look away as the last of his shaky visions had fallen apart and regretted it. Now he was blind and the only visions he had were of Nyx's terrified face and Dean's own surrender.

To cover how he felt, Kevin was stuck in his self-proclaimed 'blind prophet trope'. Castiel hadn't seen the humour in that, nor had Sam, since both knew he wasn't having any more visions. The sarcasm getting him nowhere, he decided to fake sleep so he could think.

_What had he told Azazel?_

It was all a blur from the headaches and pain. That short time in the van, Michael had allowed him to suffer, knowing that the pain would weaken him badly. All he had left in that time spent trying to finger-read the tablets were moments he had been in so much pain that Meg had actually been a blessing when she had rescued him. Now there, Kevin thought, was the real problem. Without his eyes, he had to cling to his memories of the tablets and he figured that was his only value to Sam right now.

"You okay?" Sam asked from up front as he kept the car coasting along.

"Yeah, fine." Kevin punched the jacket he was using as a pillow. "Just tired."

The Impala made for a soft, steady drone under his ear and he found himself falling asleep to its hum. At least he was safe here, Kevin thought to himself and he finally stopped fighting his exhaustion.

_Immediately he was back in Chuck's house. He still couldn't see, but he could… feel the difference. The warm air of the Impala was gone, he could hear the sound of tapping on the laptop, and he smell the alcohol and smell of burnt bacon. The last smells he remembered before going blind._

_Turning around in a circle, he held his hands out. "Where am I?"_

_Someone grabbed his shoulders and steadied him. "You did okay, Kevin. I just need you a little longer, then you can rest. I need you to see the end for them. I said it was hard to have faith, but I need you to have it."_

_His face was held, fingers covered where his eyes should be, and he began to scream at the pressure on his empty eye-sockets. The pain brought memory of the white hot flashes he had seen when he had watched Chuck die, had seen Nyx's true form. The lights crashed together and melded into prophecy like a wave overwhelming him. Vision after vision overloaded his mind and for a moment it was as if he had eyes again. It all was happening too fast, bringing with them pain and suffering. He wanted to die._

_Then his visions twisted to play out before him, revealing a red haired woman dressed in black and someone glowing too bright to be seen beside her. He could just make out a shoreline, a sunset that was never-ending over waves that crested high over the sandy beach. There was something familiar about it. But before he could get a glimpse of where he really was, booming voices began to shriek at him to get out._

"Kevin? Kevin!" Sam's voice was loud inside the car and he reached over the seat and smacked the prophet on the arm. Kevin woke, gasping for breath, and felt rough calloused hands on his face, holding him still. The warmth of Grace clearing his head helped Kevin gulp in a few breaths that actually calmed his racing heart.

"You were dreaming." Castiel's voice almost seemed raspier now, so close that Kevin heard his whisper as if he was shouting at him. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing." He reached up to rub at his eyes and remembered they weren't there. Instead, he tugged at the gauze covering his eyes until the material relieved the itch there. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Yes, damn it!" Kevin sat up and shoved Castiel away, fumbling to fix his seatbelt. "Where's Meg?"

"Driving her own way so we're not followed. I didn't like it." The angel was still too close, his presence now oppressive, and Kevin pressed against the door to avoid him.

"Kevin, I need you to remember what happened," Sam said and Kevin heard the thump thump of his fingers on the steering wheel. It meant Sam wanted to press for details and didn't know how to do it calmly. "What did you do for Azazel?"

"It… it was a spell." Tiredly, he leaned back and wished he could see Sam. "The spell to get into Purgatory was easy to remember. I saw all your notes, remember? Then the paths, the visions, all of it kind of just happened."

"What paths?"

"It makes sense to me," he rambled on. "I saw ways in. The spell to get into the Lethe wouldn't be that different than getting into Purgatory. Only…"

The silence hung in the air between them as they waited for him to finish.

"Purgatory was just like a big game reserve for God, a storage facility for monsters gone wrong. Lethe was run by someone else. Guarded by someone else. It isn't even on the same level and we didn't know much about it."

Castiel was shifting beside him. "But I was able to pull Meg free."

"Because Sheol decided she wasn't ready to be there yet. That she could be used. She _let you_ take her back, Cas, remember?" Kevin shook his head. "What I remember being told is that Sheol fell asleep, so to speak. Closed the doors to the Lethe."

"So what is Azazel doing with Meg's blood?"

"It could have a link there. With the right words, the right ingredients, the right amount of power, there's no reason both Michael and Azazel together couldn't _make_ a doorway. They just might not like stepping through."

Sam exhaled. "Taking Dean with them."

"Yeah."

Castiel was moving again, restless now that Kevin had explained the possibility. "We need to stop them."

"Then why are we headed South?" Sam asked.

"Because the monsters that escaped can give us a way to find them. The other monsters the angels have found would have known… if they hadn't been killed. Michael would leave a trail, I know it, and the monsters with him. It might be in this thing's memory and I can use that," Castiel explained patiently, but Kevin heard the odd note in his voice.

"You also want to get a piece of it."

The angel's silence was telling and Sam stuttered out, "Look, Cas…"

"My daughter was killed." The sudden way Castiel snapped that out made Kevin jump. He could just imagine the angel's stoic face now. "I've not had time to bury her, even in memory. They left me with nothing of Nyx. You better than anyone understands what I have to do, Sam."

"Yeah… yeah I do," Sam whispered.

Kevin turned his face into the cool glass window and scratched at the gauze again. "I wish I'd driven with Meg."

* * *

Castiel wished the same thing at the next stop when she didn't show up again. Sam had needed to get some sleep and was passed out in the Impala's front seat, asking for an hour or two. It left the angel and the prophet to make an awkward couple in the late night restaurant. Kevin was a sullen wreck, sitting in uncomfortable silence as he fumbled with eating a salad, and Castiel kept his hands folded as he watched him. He wasn't sure how to make any sort of conversation with the prophet; mentally he relayed things Dean might say and came up short. Nothing appropriate came to mind.

"I should have gone with Meg," the angel muttered and Kevin's head lifted.

"If that spell works, Cas, you can't leave her alone. They'll want her more than ever." His fork slipped on the plate, screeching loudly. The sound meant nothing to Castiel but he saw the way Kevin winced. "Shit!"

He banged the fork down hard in his frustration.

Castiel only stared him, sympathizing with his hopelessness. "I'm sorry. If I could heal you…"

Kevin waved his hand, and began to hand-feed himself the lettuce instead. "I know, Cas. I just- how else do you cope with losing your eyes, you know?"

They were both quiet as he ate and then Castiel leaned forward a little, lowering his voice.

"What did you see? Neither of them were angels, I know. I'm trying to understand." His curiosity getting the better of him, Castiel flicked the plastic tablecloth and waited. Kevin chewed thoughtfully for a minute and if he had had eyes, the angel knew he wouldn't be looking away from him.

"Is there anything you can't look into? Because you're an angel?"

"I have to assume there would be. Things I can't understand maybe," Castiel confessed.

"Like God?"

"Maybe. I've never met him to know."

"There's your answer," Kevin said cryptically and went back to eating, his bound head drawing a sympathetic look from the waitress as she poured Castiel more coffee. She started to talk to him but noticed he was staring at the door and not at her.

The angel was hoping for Meg to breeze in as she always did, if anything to relieve the tension. A small movement and a hacking cough caught his attention and he finally noticed a trio of travellers, dusted with snow and ice, sitting in a corner booth behind him. One man was trying to get his young toddler to eat but she was sleepily pushing the fork away, still too young to talk.

"I think she's sick," her father muttered, his southern accent thick with exhaustion. Castiel leaned over the back of the booth, trying to be discreet. The girl's brown eyes met his, causing him to smile as he read her mind.

"She's just tired. Were you travelling all day?" he asked. Both men looked at him, confused by the suddenness of his appearance and by the way the little girl seemed to relax when she heard his voice.

"Yeah, maybe," the other man said, ruffling her hair. "You okay, pumpkin?"

Castiel noticed her nod and slump down into her father's arms. After settling her down cozily, her father looked at Castiel curiously. "I think you're right. You've got kids?" he asked curiously.

"I had a daughter." Castiel gave a weak smile and both men looked at each other in understanding.

"I'm sorry," one muttered, eyes on the little girl again. "We lost her twin in a car accident. Drunk driver hit us. It… it was hard those first few weeks."

Castiel felt the sting of grief just as sharp as before but the open camaraderie of the two men helped ease it.

"You have any pictures?" the man's partner asked. He fumbled in his pocket and showed Castiel a photo of a smiling toddler boy. "This was our last one of Simon."

Castiel thought of the photographs tucked inside of his coat, the pictures of a happy child that he'd been given. He shook his head, knowing what it could cost to his sense of calm if he showed that weakness. Both men frowned.

"Was it pretty recent?" the first man asked and Castiel nodded. "I'm telling you, the best thing to do is not be alone. Even if it feels right." Sheepishly he grinned at his partner. "You can lose people that way."

The first man rolled his eyes affectionately. "Yeah, but you didn't."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Castiel whispered, remembering the human words Dean had insisted meant something to people like this. They nodded and before he could say anything more he noticed the door opening. Meg and Sam were coming in together, the tall hunter yawning and then choking on it when Meg squirmed by him, shoving him out of her way. Castiel watched her closely, trying to see any injury. The men behind his table looked at the way he was staring and then nudged each other.

"He'll be fine," one muttered to the other.

Not wanting to be rude, Castiel thanked them and turned back to his table. Sam and Meg fought over who was sitting where and Castiel reached out to pull Meg down, forcing Sam to sit in the tiny corner Kevin has left him.

"Where were you?" he asked, ignoring the others as they argued about who was taking up more space.

"Took the long route, kept an eye out, sent some text messages to Crowley."

"Why?"

She smirked. "Well, a happy Crowley is an unsuspecting Crowley." Meg stretched an arm out and snagged Kevin's coffee cup, pouring several spoonfuls of sugar in. He fumbled looking for it and she smirked.

"Meg, come on," Sam said.

"That was Meg?" Kevin asked. "I figured. Had demon written all over it."

"You can tell that?" she joked. Surprisingly, he smiled, as if her treating him as if he was normal was a relief. Meg sucked down a few deep gulps and then leaned back in the seat. "We're on the Louisiana line now, boys. Sam, how the hell did you and Dean do this so much?"

Sam gave her a confused look.

"Always seemed like you guys were 'poof' there."

"We were just good at cutting time out," he explained.

"Or your asses were made of steel because mine is killing me," Meg said with a squirm. Castiel glanced down and she noticed him staring. "Eyes on mine, Cas, you'll make Sam blush staring like that."

Her attempted flippancy seemed forced and though Sam looked away, Castiel watched her. There was a set to her face that seemed more false and shaky than before.

"You're worn out," he muttered, going to touch her face.

"Stop it," Meg whispered, pulling back. "I'm doing all right."

"You didn't rest after your fight with Abaddon."

"I said I'm fine!" she snapped and when she went to stand he caught her by the wrist, the movement catching Sam's eye. Ignoring her tugs, he flipped her wrist over and saw that several of the marks Abaddon had left hadn't healed. Both demon and angel noticed Sam watching and Castiel took advantage of Meg's distraction to touch her side, fingers stealing into her jacket.

"I'm going with Meg in her car. So she can rest."

"I'm not letting you drive."

"You don't have a choice." He dangled her keys that he had slipped out of her pocket. Meg hissed and grappled with him for them as he held them away.

"Give 'em back!"

"No. I can drive and you can rest." He held her back as if she were a kitten swiping him and not a demon of her power. The sight was bizarrely amusing and Sam started chuckling as he watched Meg try to climb onto Castiel to get her keys back. They slipped over the plastic cushions and he leaned away from her even when her knee banged his groin. The angel simply waited her out, ignoring her hushed cursing, until Meg sat back with a huff.

"I could just zap myself out and hitchhike."

"Do it and I'll follow you. You need rest," he insisted. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Meg, just let him take care of you."

"I don't need —," she started, eyes black.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about your reputation. I'll still think you're a badass demon but we need you on our side and not half-asleep," he interrupted before she could protest. Castiel smiled at him for helping and felt Meg's hand on his thigh under the table. She squeezed hard in warning, nails pinching the thin material of his trousers and he eyed her.

"It's just a few more hours till we hit Lafayette," he said. "It won't be that long."

"Better not be," Meg grumbled. "A nanny angel gets old fast for a girl like me."

Castiel elected not to answer that and one look at Sam's relieved nod told him that had been the right move.

* * *

_Maine…_

The canopy of trees and brush had formed the only cover she had, the only protection against any animals or humans that would be coming through this way. Nursing deep wounds and even more deeply injured psyche, Eve made a pitiful sight compared to what she had once been. She was vulnerable and this time she was afraid with every instinct left that told her there was nothing she could do. Her vessel was falling apart and she had lost control of healing it.

Even just putting out a pitiful amount of power to try to heal the damage ended up with the aftereffects warping the world around her. Trees died, plants shrivelled up, and the heat in the air grew stifling. But the state she was in stayed the same and combined with her pain was frustration and fear.

The wounds in her chest and neck were refusing to heal properly. With the destroyed muscles in her neck, she had to keep her head at a permanent slant facing downward, twisted in a jutting angle. Eve could feel the way her skin tried to heal itself but each failed attempt simply made the pain worse. It was hard to control the slathering drool falling from her lips or the jerking her nerves made her body do.

The fire and the half-done spells and angel sword swords had made her vessel stop responding to her healing powers. She was so hungry, Eve realized as she dug her hands into the dirt and t. As hungry as she was, the rumbling in her stomach would never stop until she healed.

The longer she went without substance, the weaker she became and the less likely it was that she would ever heal.

It was why she almost buried herself in the ground to try to heal. She couldn't call her children to her now, so there were no alphas to heal her with their blood, no dragons to protect her. She was weak and she was alone.

Eve had never been so terrified in her long existence.

She knew the angels were watching just as intently as the demons. Her body would be a prize at this point, to either side, though were no fertile eggs left within her body, no children about to come to her. All she had left were her infectious gifts from her own venom, her own blood, and that was the only protection that kept her from being attacked.

Keening in her throat, she covered herself in more mud and earth, like an animal set to hibernate. Broken limbs were forced to reset and Eve knew she would fall apart sooner or later.

_How had it all gone so wrong so fast?_

_Azazel._

Hate had always strengthened her. She had never hated until she had been brought back. She had fallen into step to God's demands with the way things were meant to be. But the Winchesters, the angel, Crowley; they had taught her to hate. Azazel had simply created more reason for her to want to destroy all of creation.

One infection at a time.

Eve dug her fingers into the mud, slathering it onto her wounds as she listened to something moving through the brush. It smelled like a demon, all sulphur and cheap cologne, and her incisors dropped hungrily. The angel that had been watching her was gone and she knew she could take the demon's power to sustain herself for a little longer.

She was so hungry.

* * *

_The waves were crashing on the shore and Meg turned to watch the way they crested and rolled against the rocky outcrops. Miles of unblemished beach, blue-green water, sunset sky; anyone else would see it as beautiful but Meg felt the vague strangeness beneath the beauty. This place was so familiar. She knew it. She'd missed it at first, feared it, and then forgotten it._

_Or so she thought._

_"You always come back to where you started. Did you miss its warmth? Its peace?" A voice was sly and husky in her ear, hands slipping around her throat. Meg closed her eyes at the familiar tones, the rise and fall of an unplaceable accent._

_"Why don't you come to me and we can go back?"_

_Meg ignored the voice and stared._

_"She's not coming back to you, Meg. I made sure of that."_

_"Get out of my head," she whispered, breaking free of the hold on her throat. Something else grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her step by reluctant step towards the waves until her toes met the water. Then the cold hands were gone, replaced with a warm, unseeable embrace that Meg nearly fell into._

_"Was it worth it in the end, little dove?" a soft female voice asked and Meg closed her eyes._

_"I don't know," she admitted and the tingling sensation in her feet slowly crawled up her body._

_"Meg."_

_The hand on her wrist stroked her skin. "Sometimes you can't tell until it is all over."_

_**"Meg."** _

_"You could have made the other choice, you know that." The female voice was wistful. "And then you would have just come to the Lethe again. Never felt this pain again. All of it. Over."_

_Meg opened her eyes and whatever was around her seemed to sense her thoughts._

_"Poor little dove. So stuck between what she was, what she became, and what she is."_

" _ **Meg."**_

_"Run back to your angel, Meg."_

"Meg, wake up."

She jerked awake when she heard the Cougar's engine being shut off. "Wha-sa?" she said, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes.

"We had to stop at a bar." Castiel was staring at her. "I thought you said you didn't need sleep."

"It was either that or deal with your attempts at demon therapy." She gave the angel a lecherous grin that didn't seem as teasing as usual. "Back seat is free again if you want to do more than perch on my shoulder."

He didn't look away. "I wanted you, you wanted me. We both felt grief we never expected to feel. Don't make it seem so one-sided."

"Hardly ever has been, has it?" Meg mumbled, hating that he wasn't letting her deflect. She pushed her hair away from her face. "Where are we?"

"Sam phoned. He wanted to stop for something to eat. Kevin's needing to rest; Sam said he's been sick." He squinted at the road signs. "We're actually very close to Lafayette."

"So we do another diner run?"

"Sam has a point. We can see if there's been any news. An infected monster would be causing problems."

"Give the Winchester a medal for smart thinking for once," she muttered under her breath.

"They're just pulling in now," Castiel commented as headlights flashed across the windshield.

Meg lazily stretched, exposing now healed skin along the strip of flesh above her jeans, and heard his soft intake of breath. When she glanced over, he was watching her closely. "Keep your tongue in your mouth. You've seen it all before."

"I was merely checking," he snapped as she unbuckled herself. "You were badly hurt.

Rolling her eyes, Meg watched him look out the window as the Impala pulled up. The moment he reached for the door, Meg leaned over and planted a hard kiss on his startled mouth. The demon lingered on the familiar flavour of his mouth, and she heard his startled murmur when she nipped his lower lip. His eyes were wide when she pulled back, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Meg rubbed her thumb over the curve of his mouth and smirked.

"Aren't you just the cutest?" she asked mischievously before crawling over him and out of the car. He was already starting to plan his speech on how angels, on the whole, were not "cute". Even though he suspected she meant it sarcastically.

Sam and Kevin were waiting for them by the Impala, the prophet yawning as he scratched at the gauze. "He slept the whole ride over and is still tired. I think he shouldn't come in but he's insisting," Sam explained and Kevin's head quirked towards them.

"All the people who lost their eyes and can't be healed by angels, raise your hands." He raised his own and his mouth quirked. "No one else's hands are up, are they?"

Meg grinned in appreciation and after tucking a holstered gun into his coat, Sam took his arm. "Come on."

The small bar had a faint algae undertone to its odours of Cajun cooking. Heavy in spices and surprisingly humid, the air was warm and inviting, enough that even Meg relaxed a little. Castiel looked around, wrinkling his nose at the heavy smells, but Sam ignored it all. He guided Kevin over to a table with the angel and demon and helped him figure out where things were before he took a look for himself. Except for an older man paying at the counter, it was empty.

As the door banged shut behind the last customer, a young woman came over to the table, giving them all a friendly smile. She obviously noticed Kevin but was too polite to stare.

"Evening."

Meg looked around. "When's your rush hour?"

"You're in it," the woman said with a wink as she wiped down the table and left to get water. Meg looked around and arched an eyebrow at Sam.

"I feel like humming some CCR all of a sudden, you know what I mean?"

He opened his mouth to say something, stalled by the waitress coming back. Kevin's head turned and he helped him find his water glass before turning to the woman. She was toying with a bracelet as she looked at Kevin, and he noticed that someone had drawn a happy face on her hand.

Catching him looking, she smiled and focussed on Castiel and Meg instead.

"I'm Elizabeth. You can take a look at the menu." She gestured to the chalkboard. "And holler when you want something."

Sam gave her an appreciative grin. "I'm sure we will," he said, voice doing an unassuming drop that had her turning the force of her smile onto him this time. Under the table, Meg kicked him hard and he gave her an innocent look once the waitress left. "What?"

"Eyes on the prize already?"

"What? I was being polite."

"Your voice did seem to hint at flirtation," Castiel said knowingly.

That delighted Meg. "See? Clarence agrees with me."

"He sleeps with you, he has to agree with you, right?" Sam snarked back. Kevin groaned.

"Come on. What are you all, in high school? Sam, you were trying to flirt. I heard it."

"Blind Prophet settles it. So park the Winchester charm, 'kay?" Meg ordered and Sam resumed glaring at her, even as he gestured at Elizabeth. She smiled pleasantly, not seeming to notice the way Meg's smirking look was including her. The demon kicked Sam again when he openly grinned at the woman and he cleared his face of the smile.

"What'll it be?" she asked.

"Actually, Elizabeth. We're looking for…" He stumbled for a lie. "We've got some friends in trouble down this way, said there was some weird things happening. You heard of anything strange?"

She pushed her braid over a shoulder and tucked her pencil behind her ear. "Nothing really. I've only moved back here a few weeks myself but this is a quiet place. The locals were in earlier for coffee and eggs, said there was some ruckus down near a campsite. Talking about monsters and vampires but who believes that, right?"

Watching her closely, Castiel knew she did believe it.

"Anything else?" Meg asked. Elizabeth shot them all a suspicious once-over and Castiel tried for a smile that was more strained than friendly. Meg nudged him to stop it and the awkward expression left his face immediately. "We just want to make sure to avoid it." She nodded at Kevin. "He went blind recently; weak as a kitten and all that."

"Ah huh," Elizabeth said, eyes darting over Sam again. "Let me ask the kitchen staff. Only the dishwasher and cook back there now. I'll be back."

Kevin's head turned toward Meg. "Did you just use me as an excuse?"

"What was I supposed to do? 'Hi, can you tell me where the vampires around here are? We want to kill a few.' " Meg rolled her eyes. "Real subtle. It's a wonder you guys get any information."

"She has a point," Castiel conceded.

"Stop siding with Meg, Cas," Kevin said.

"Well, I think…" Sam started and then stopped as Elizabeth came into sight again, following a well-muscled man carrying a pot of strong smelling gumbo. At his open mouth stare, Meg and Castiel turned to see, leaving Kevin to tap his fingers on the table in frustration.

"Hey. What is it? What's going on?"

"That's… that's Benny."

"Who's askin', Lizzie?" Benny was talking to the waitress as he set the pot on the front stove and began to stir. Castiel could hear them clearly and he swallowed, eyes darting to Meg.

"Some people from up north. One's kinda cute actually."

"Haven't been up north in weeks." Benny was stirring and looking at Elizabeth, not seeing the group in the corner. "And what'd I tell you about the cute ones?"

"We're related, but that doesn't mean you get to pull the great-grandfather routine on me," Elizabeth said. "You realize how hard it is to find good men who…"

"Benny." Sam's voice made him stop stirring and Elizabeth whipped around, turning bright red with embarrassment.

"Oh, this is Roy…"

"Nice try but I know this is Benny."

The vampire reached out and squeezed Elizabeth's shoulder. "It's all right, Lizzie. This is Dean Winchester's little brother."

"Little? Little where?" Her eyes went slowly up Sam but unlike before he wasn't flattered. Meg and Castiel approached, leaving Kevin behind, and Benny's eyes widened.

"Little lady, Auntie. Haven't seen you both in ages. I've been hoping to see you again," he said and Sam noticed how relieved he sounded.

"Benny," Castiel said. Like Meg, he thought he knew why Benny was hiding here and not with a nest. His hand was already in his coat, grasping his angel sword. The vampire caught the gesture but only wiped his hands on a cloth and leaned against the counter.

"You know what we're doing here?" Sam asked

"I think I know why you're here. Why wouldn't I?" Benny said. His friendly tone made it seem like he was inviting them to dinner, as if they all weren't looking at him with ill-disguised animosity. "Don't worry about Elizabeth here, she knows it all."

She gave them a weak smile, hands tightly clenched in her apron.

"You're hanging around humans again?" Sam demanded. "God, how good it must be to earn trust so easily."

"She knows who I am, what I am. I came to her in need and she was willing to take a chance. After all that happened, she's forgiven me more than a lot of people would," Benny said, eyes going over her. "More than I deserve. "

Meg's eyes darted from angel to man to vampire. "What did you do?"

"What do you know?" Castiel interrupted and Benny set down his ladle.

"Enough." The vampire reached for the salt next. "I was polite, and all you three can do is get ready to kill me. You had better work on your conversation starters. For example, you could have told me what happened to Kevin there."

He nodded at the prophet who was sitting, attentively listening. "It's pretty obvious," Kevin snapped. "Maybe we can play "I spy" if you're that stupid about it."

Meg bit back a smirk as Benny raised his eyebrows. But Castiel's confusion and Sam's obvious frustration was making it harder on her not to break into a bitter laugh. She had her suspicions and like Castiel her hand was on the only weapon she carried.

"Cas, Meg, leave me and Benny alone for a second. Kevin can stay." Sam's face was tight with anger, voice no brokering no argument. Castiel looked at him skeptically and then back at Benny.

"I think I should stay."

"Cas, please!" Sam snapped and the angel sighed, turning to Meg. The demon looked ready to argue but Castiel took her by the arm and led her out. Behind them, Kevin turned his head left and right, concentrating on something only he knew. Benny leaned back against the stove, arms crossed over his chest.

"I just saved your life. For the moment."

"I got the feelin', yeah. But they didn't have to leave." Benny was watching them through the front window until they disappeared to the patio. Reluctantly, he looked at the hunter staring at him. "Why're they wanting my head?

"Dean's been possessed by a demon and an angel," Sam said, charging ahead and hoping to make some impact on the vampire.

But Benny only nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"I know it's just -" Sam stopped. "What do you mean, 'you know'?"

"I was there. Don't you remember?" Benny rubbed at his bearded jaw. "Though I think I looked a bit more infected. All pus faced and veined up."

"You…" Sam's eyes did an odd twitch. Then he remembered the vampire that had struck down Dean but hadn't actually touched anyone. The one who had… He reached into his coat and flipped open his pistol holster. "You knew, you watched it all happen."

"Benny, what's going on?" The slim brunette removed the flour-stained apron around her waist and slapped it onto the counter. "I thought you said they'd know."

"I had only Dean's number, not Sam's or Castiel's. Dean wanted it that way if something happened. I had to keep low." Benny's eyes lazily went over the young man. "And you know I'm not infected now."

Sam pulled his gun and both vampire and human froze. "She knows what you've done?"

"What've I done?" Benny hadn't moved yet.

"You stood by and watched what happened to Dean." Sam ignored Elizabeth, who was backing towards Benny again. "He was your friend!"

"Still is," the vampire answered soothingly. "Calm down, Sam."

"You didn't help us. You let them… you…"

"Calm down," Benny repeated.

"You let them hurt her, you let them take Kevin!" Blind with anger, Sam lifted his gun higher. "I'm trying to think, after all Dean trusted you with, why I shouldn't shoot you right now! It won't kill you but it's a start"

Benny held his hands out wide to the side, thick forearms turned and his palms showing. "Take it easy, Sam."

"You helped them kill Nyx! A helpless little girl!" Sam shouted. "How are you any better than those monsters?"

"Wait." Benny stared, obviously shocked. "You tellin' me that the girl is really dead?"

Sam hesitated, hand lowering a little. "You- you didn't know that."

"No. That's not right, Sam." Benny's jaw clenched. "I wasn't gonna let it happen. I saw what happened to Dean and Kevin, I did what I could to fight what I was to help you but Eve's infection was stronger than me! It was like I was in a cage."

With his finger itching on the trigger, Sam nearly shot him where he stood. "Damn it, Benny, we trusted you!"

"Still can. Otherwise can't be right," Benny repeated, as if the hunter hadn't spoken and wasn't brandishing a gun so wildly. Elizabeth nervously reached out to stop him but Benny brushed her aside as he continued to mutter to himself, banging his shoulder into the kitchen door. Sam started after him but the waitress stood between them, her hand gently pushing back on his chest.

"It's okay."

"No… no it's not. He's a killer!" he insisted and her grip tightened just a little, so he was forced to look her. She gave him a wistful smile and Sam was aware of something dropping in his stomach at that smile. She knew exactly what Benny was but the sympathetic look in her eyes was too kind to be someone frightened by that.

"No, he's not." She smiled up at him and Sam lowered his gun a bit. "I know him. He wouldn't hurt a little girl anymore than he'd hurt Dean or you."

"You know nothing about vampires."

Her smile turned down just a little. "But I know _him_. He couldn't do anything like that." The grip on his arm squeezed comfortingly. "It's okay, Sam."

Fidgeting, he dropped his gun down and almost slumped. Sitting at the table, Kevin's head turned as he tried to find where everyone was. "What's happening, Sam?"

Finally tearing his eyes away from Elizabeth, Sam looked away to see Benny coming out of the kitchen. He wasn't armed, and it simply looked like he had gone to change out of his messy apron. Using his foot, he propped the door open behind him.

"I'm going to prove to you, Sam, that you can trust me," he said, still holding out his hands as if to demonstrate his own innocence to the Winchester. Sam started for him but he didn't back away any further. "Your brother trusted me, you should too."

As he came closer, Sam began to squeeze the trigger.

* * *

"So what happens if Benny knows the rest of the monsters we were looking for?" Meg asked. Castiel watched as she walked in front of him.

"It changes nothing. He'll help us."

"Then it'll be over too fast. That's the problem with vengeance, Cas. Feels so good and then you have nothing left from it," Meg said.

"You sound disappointed," he pointed out.

"Guess I am." She led him around the yard and tilted her head back to eye the stars. Castiel still just followed her as she paced around the bar's junky yard. "Gets you thinking."

He moved with her into the back, always keeping an ear out for Sam if he needed help. "About what?"

"What we have to do. If we're unlucky, we're offed in some sort of big battle that will mean nothing to how many billion in this world."

Castiel rolled his eyes as he followed Meg into the overgrown patio. "You don't seem very hopeful," he commented as he watched her sit on a creaky old swing. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

The demon ignored that but a quirk to her eyebrow let him know he'd pay for it later. "Whatever Sam will do to Benny won't mean anything, even if we find those things that killed Nyx. If we're lucky we survive and have to find something to go towards. But then what? There's nothing to keep us all together. Sam will still hunt, even if we don't save Dean. Eventually, you'll go back to Heaven and I'll end up having to stay one step ahead of everyone like I used to. So really, what do we have left?"

Meg frowned down at her hands as she let the iron cast chair swivel around. The rotted arbour, twined with vines creeping up from the bayou, cast a long shadow over her. Despite himself, Castiel thought she actually looked beautiful in that sort of gloomy light and he sighed as he realized what she was saying. He grasped the swing's iron chain to keep it from moving away from him and held her still.

"I wouldn't leave the Winchesters to do this alone. I wouldn't leave you either. After everything that's happened, Meg." He gave her a chastising look. "I assumed I wouldn't have to convince you."

"I'm a demon, Cas. I'm realistic. This ends, I give us a week or so tops before we get pulled in all directions. Me to Hell, you to Heaven. The way it should have been if we'd never-" She gave a gasp as he gripped her arm tightly.

"Stop."

"But…" He shot her a warning glare that actually chilled her. "Fine."

"Do you not want to stay with me?"

"Well. When you think about it-"

"I don't," he muttered and knelt down in front of her so he could see her face.

"If it hadn't been you pulling me out of the Lethe, you would have forgotten me." She gave him a grin. "Except for a dirty fantasy or two, I'm sure."

"I'm pretty certain you are unforgettable," he said dryly. "You won't let yourself be forgotten."

Meg smiled at first and then she looked away.

"How hard could it be to convince you?" the angel muttered and the demon sighed.

"Castiel."

"Meg." Castiel stretched his fingers over hers and watched the slight contortion in her trueface as the demon reacted to the Grace. "Please."

Meg's fingers touched his but before he could continue, her eyes flicked over his head, her brow furrowing. Castiel saw the way her eyes took on a troubled look, her head tilting. But the look for once wasn't directed at him. He could sense Benny and Sam approaching.

Some inherent jealousy for her attention made him murmur for her to look at him but she jerked her hand out of his and leaned away. Frustrated that he'd been interrupted when he was sure he was getting somewhere, Castiel stood up and rotated slowly on his heel, already braced for a fight.

As if they were once again friends, Sam and Benny were standing across from the angel and demon, where the light from the bar highlighted them. The vampire had his hands out to the side, looking as unthreatening as possible. He knew that the angel had heard every word of their earlier argument, just by the way Castiel's eyes lit on him with fury.

"Easy, Castiel. I have things to explain."

Meg moved, jostling in front of Castiel, and the angel noticed her eyes weren't on Benny. Her breathing was shallow and her hands were flexing close to where she hid her angel sword. Looking at her, Castiel nearly thought she was going to attack them until he realized she wasn't moving any further. Then that he felt the something strange. It was like there was a hand pushing against him and wanting his attention. He glanced at the demon's profile and saw her lips parted in surprise, and she didn't look away from Sam.

"If Sam's not killed me yet, you know I'm not the bad guy here," the vampire continued and he gave Castiel a half-smile. "Why do you think I was happy to see you?"

He shuffled a little, hands still out to the side, and Castiel couldn't find the words to answer him as the feeling continued to push harder and harder on him. The air was almost vibrating with it now and he glanced at Meg to see her looking just as confused.

"Come on," Benny said softly but he wasn't talking to Castiel anymore.

Coming out from Sam's shadow, the little girl who'd been hiding behind him looked tiny between the two large men. Her wide blue eyes on Meg and Castiel, Nyx reached up and held Benny's hand as she stared at them. She nervously looked at Sam next and he crouched down beside her.

"They're happy to see you, Nyxie. Just like I was," he whispered and she reached out to grasp his hand, wrapping her fingers around his thumb.

"I hid. Just like Mommy told me to when there were bad monsters," she whispered secretively and Sam gave her a smile before he stood up again and looked at her parents. Neither of them had spoken or moved yet.

"I told Dean I wouldn't let him down," Benny explained. "Knowing how he cared about this little girl, I like to think I kept my word."

"Nyx," Castiel whispered, the short syllable clipped and disbelieving, and she seemed to lean towards them a little though she was still looking up at Benny for encouragement.

"How…" Meg hadn't moved again, rock hard with tension. "Benny, we saw the blood, saw the…"

"We got time for that." The vampire bent over at the waist so he was on eye level with Nyx. "You asked me when I'd find them but they found us first. You're a lucky girl. Go on."

In a blur of movement, Nyx launched herself across the distance and up into Meg's arms with a leap, her arms hold around her mother's neck and her small legs struggling to wrap around her waist. Sure that this was a trick, Meg was still too shocked to move and held her almost limply.

"I was scared and I hid," Nyx mumbled against Meg's neck and the demon staggered backwards into Castiel. Suddenly she aware of the actual life and energy she could feel surging through the little girl. "Sorry, Mommy."

For the first time in months, Meg forgot her usual reserve and held her back as tightly as she was being held. "You scared me."

Nyx pulled back a little and looked in her eyes. "You're never scared."

"First time for everything," Meg muttered, aware of Sam and Benny pulling back to leave her and Castiel alone with Nyx. Her free hand pushed the cap off of Nyx's dark head and stroked her hair, noticing that the ends were slightly singed and uneven. "Did they hurt you?"

Nyx looked to the side and finally Castiel reached around to touch his daughter, fingers smoothing down her side while his Grace coursed between them. Nothing nipped back, but actually crowded against his power to give his fingers a pleasant, almost numbing sensation when he touched her. It was a surreal feeling that suffused him.

_This couldn't be true._

Then he felt how warm she was, felt the faint throb of her heart beneath her coat, and the way she breathed.

_She was alive._

"They cut me." Nyx lifted her hand and they saw the gouges on her palm and wrist that were still healing into pink scar tissue. "But it doesn't hurt. Benny took care of me."

Castiel couldn't stop touching her, resisting the urge to grip her harder as he stroked her hair, and he felt Meg's fingers brush his. She was swaying a little unsteadily and he looked away from Nyx long enough to see the look on Meg's face. The demon was staring at their daughter with the same expression he knew he wore.

Over two weeks of grief hadn't been enough to extinguish that tiny flicker of hope in either of them that they hadn't lost her.

Nyx hugged her mother tightly, and Meg rested her chin against the small neck, eyes shutting as she turned towards Castiel. The angel swallowed and let his hands fall to his side, shock making it hard for him to do more than just stare. Meg's eyes opened finally, black again as she seemed to read him, and he stared back at her, not sure how to ask for what he wanted.

"Go to your dad, Nyx. He needs you," Meg muttered against her daughter's cheek. Nyx turned in her embrace and met Castiel's eyes before her small hands stole into his coat collar so she could grip him next. She was in his arms before he even had a chance to invite her, her fingers tight in his dark hair as she buried her face into his neck. Her small body was warm and alive and Castiel let his arms wrap around her. He didn't care that this wasn't what any other angel would do or that in past years he would have hidden his relief.

She was alive.

"Nyx," he breathed, stopping himself as she began to mumble against his neck. She promised that she had been good, that she had wanted to wait because he said he would be back. "It's okay. I- I missed you."

She was too young to know what they had thought and he had no heart to frighten her.

"Was scared," Nyx whispered against his ear. "They hurt Kevin and Dean. Sam too."

"I know." He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, eyes on Meg. The demon was looking at the hand Nyx had shown them, tracing the tiny bit of healing scar tissue with her finger. Her eyes went back to Castiel, as if she was suddenly sure this was unreal and he caught her hand in his, pressing hard with physical strength and his Grace. Enough to make her cringe though she didn't remove her hand until he let her go.

"She's okay."

"I'm okay, Daddy." Nyx reached out and held his face between her hands, staring him seriously in the eyes. "I was good. Promise."

She didn't seem to notice what she called him had more of an effect than her promise, but the way Castiel had to close his eyes to steady himself gave it away to Meg. Nyx only saw the way both her parents were with her. She reached out to touch Meg's hand on Castiel's shoulder and with her other arm held onto him, and they both felt the energy within her seem to come together in a happy little burst.

Refusing to let her go, Castiel let her hug around his neck again and slid his hands tighter around her small body while Nyx held Meg's hand. Castiel felt Meg's other hand on the small of Nyx's back, a ghost of a touch. Their eyes met again and he allowed himself a small smile, seeing the same smile on her lips as she touched both angel and child.

* * *

From beside the Impala and invisible to their eyes, Death watched the scene for a moment, and then looked over at the man beside him. "I thought you said you didn't like the thought of a happy ending?"

"Me?" Chuck was glowing as brightly as Death's dark aura cast a deep shadow. He shrugged a shoulder up and sheepishly grinned. "I had nothing to do with this. This was all Dean's doing. Funny how that works; a human hunter managed to create a plan that inadvertently spared an innocent life. It's almost like he had help, huh?"

"Of course." Death gave him an unimpressed look.

"And Nyx. Little girl is smart and is much more than I planned." Chuck almost sounded proud and Death eyed him.

"She must take after what she was created to be."

"I bet she does." Chuck plucked at the buttons on his white shirt, eyes still on Castiel and his small family. "Time to end it soon anyway."

"You're done playing with lives?" Death asked in interest.

"Oh no. Just changing how I do it." Chuck smiled. "I think I owe it to them all."

* * *

"So this is going to take a lot of explaining," Sam said as he sat across the table from Castiel and Meg, his eyes on Nyx. The little girl had climbed onto his shoulders earlier to 'check his head', declared him okay, and then just as quickly climbed down to go to Kevin. The prophet had held her for a long time, and the moment she had touched his eyes, Nyx had known something was wrong.

"Sorry," she had whispered. The prophet's arms had wrapped around her and Sam thought he had heard him begging the little girl for forgiveness but with a gentleness beyond her years Nyx had cuddled into her friend and held him as he sobbed. He had fallen asleep, pained exhaustion and a few sleeping pills making it easy, and Benny had laid him out on a cot in the back to rest.

Meg and Castiel had said nothing since coming back into the bar, but Sam had noticed they watched their daughter possessively, as if expecting her to disappear. Nyx was now nestled in her mother's lap, trying to show her the terrycloth toy Benny had made her. Clarence had died, she had told them all very solemnly. Benny had told her and Benny never lied.

The vampire's apparent soft spot for her was clear because he'd tussled her hair and let her have her own way more than even Dean or Sam.

Meg reached forward for her beer, juggling her grip on Nyx with the bottle. Castiel still watched, now and again reaching out to touch Nyx's arm, but it was clear she was not about to move from her comfortable spot.

The demon's attention, however, was for Benny now.

"Explain. Because I'm telling you, the past two weeks were…" Her eye finally caught Castiel's. "They weren't good."

"I would have called but I only had Dean's number. And trust me when I say calling him is out of the question." Benny glanced at Elizabeth as he finished at the stove. "Had my reasons too. Wasn't always safe, especially since I was supposed to be dead or so infected that my brain was scrambled. I had to hunt the monsters that followed me and keep Nyx and Lizzie safe at the same time. I knew where Lizzie was, she took me in. Gave us a place to hide until I thought it was safe."

He reached out and put a plate of French toast in front of Nyx.

Castiel watched her turn around, temporarily giving up on fascinating Meg with her toy, and quickly begin shovelling the food into her mouth as if she hadn't eaten in days. Benny's great-granddaughter smirked at his expression.

"She's growing and I can't tell you how active that girl is. She'll follow me around all day, asking questions, and I'm tired out." They all looked at her and she blushed at Sam's scrutiny. "What? Company is nice and I usually work alone."

"I like Lizzie," Nyx declared before licking a bit of syrup from her finger. She looked across the table at Sam. "So does Sammy."

Sam shot her a look begging her to be quiet as Benny eyed him. "Ah, ha, Nyx. That's not…"

"She's pretty," Nyx said, beaming at the other woman. She smiled back and Meg looked down at the top of Nyx's head.

"Who don't you like, monster?"

"Didn't like that mean angel. He hurt me," Nyx muttered with obvious irritation. Food forgotten, she tilted her head back up to look at Meg as she turned to cuddle down in her arms. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," Meg muttered. "Still surprised how much."

She smoothed Nyx's hair out of her face and Nyx sighed, sagging gratefully. Benny watched the interaction, still sipping at his drink, before he uncrossed his legs and stood to get more. He ruffled Kevin's hair as he passed to let him know he was there. He refilled his cup and turned around to face them.

"It's still blurry to me what happened…"

* * *

_The vampire swung his heavy fists to get the furniture out of the way. Azazel's orders had rung repeatedly in his ears, penetrating the perpetual grey haze in his vision. The infection had driven him wild, until it took strength to turn him around. The starvation made it worse; he was so hungry!_

_Fingers digging into the furniture, he heard the other vampires' eager snarls to devour the child they could smell. They'd fight over her blood, Benny knew that. He was just so hungry that he didn't care any longer. He saw her huddled down behind the sofa, wedged in, and another vampire reached out to tear the stuffed animal from her hands. He began tearing it into fluffy piles. Roaring down at her, they both descended and heard an ear-splitting sound like metal being struck. One vampire struck her on the face and her scream muffled into cries, blood weeping from an open cut on her hand._

_The blood was what drove them almost wild and Benny reached for her first, shoving the vampire out of the way. The little girl saw him coming and instead of crying, she moved. She surprised him by launching up and putting her hands on his face. Blue eyes met infected red and he stared in surprise, mangled features parting in a snarl that his next meal dared to touch him._

_But she didn't scream._

" _Good monster. Dean's friend," the little girl whispered and for the first time since Eve had bitten him, Benny felt sensation seep through his skin. It suffused him with warmth and the marks on his neck began to heal over as every nerve ending was set on fire. He let her go and staggered back, crying out in pain before he collapsed to his knees beside her. Sensing an easy kill, the other vampire reached for the little girl and she screamed as she was dragged away from Benny._

_Curled up with his head in his hands, Benny whimpered as power suffused his entire body and drained him of the dark power that had been infecting him and changing him into something far worse than a vampire. It burned him inside, scourging the infection in slow flays of power. He was being healed from soul to body and the pain was excruciating. But then it was gone and suddenly he could hear and see without haze. He was himself._

_Then he heard her scream._

_The vampire holding Nyx down had his fangs just at her cut wrist, ready to clamp down, when his head was yanked back and he was thrown into the wall. Ignoring her blood, Benny stood over her and he wiped his wet and blackened lips. Nyx whimpered, shaking in her fear, and Benny held out his hands._

" _I've got you, lil' sprite," he whispered as he pulled her up into his arms. Nyx squirmed a little. "I remember you now. Dean would have me save you. I have you." He caught the vampire's charge by wrapping his arm around his throat. "Close your eyes now, that's a good girl."_

_Nyx didn't see Benny tear into the vampire with one hand as she fainted in his arms._

* * *

Nyx yawned sleepily and Castiel reached out to brush her hair away from her face, content that she was safe. Benny watched the gesture with a little bit of remorse, thinking of his own past family.

"I could never hurt that little girl. When she touched me she… healed me. Somehow," he explained.

Meg glanced at Castiel. "She hadn't been able to heal me."

"Maybe something in her woke up. She's been getting stronger, we all know that," Sam said, adjusting his long legs. "Maybe it is thanks to what happened. With Chuck and Dean."

"Maybe." Castiel reached out and picked her up out of Meg's arms. Letting her head bury in his neck, he walked to the other side of the bar as he let his Grace lull her into a gentle doze. He listened to them chatter behind him about what to do, Meg and Kevin making an argument for getting to some place even more secluded and Benny not wanting to leave anyone alone.

Nyx turned in his arms, eyes opening and he smiled at her. "You okay?"

She nodded and leaned back to stare at him very seriously though she childishly lisped, "They was sorry."

Castiel knew what she was referring to. Dean would regret it but he wondered why Chuck would have been sorry. "Nyx, why didn't you find me?" he asked. "I told you I'd come back."

She shrugged and toyed with his tie. "Had to stay with Benny. "

Having the feeling she either wasn't going to answer or didn't know the answer, Castiel set her down on the windowsill and stood beside her. "What do you want to do?"

"Go home!" she said enthusiastically. "Want my bed." She leaned close to whisper, "Benny nice but I want my room."

"Okay." He smiled and smoothed his hand down her hair. "We'll go home."

Then her hands tightened on his dark hair. "I miss Dean."

Castiel gave her a worried look. "You know Dean would never hurt you."

She nodded and crawled into his arms again. "Someone hurt him."

"Yes." His hands gripped her tighter and he felt her small fingers twirl in his hair.

"Have-ta save him," Nyx whispered as if they were sharing a secret.

"I know." He let the little girl wind her arms around in his neck and she sighed.

* * *

The car ride, split between the Impala and the Cougar, was awkward. Benny and Sam were together, while Kevin stayed with Nyx, Castiel, and Meg. Despite wanting to be alone with their daughter, Nyx had insisted Kevin come so she could watch him. The Impala was travelling up another road.

There was no healing his eyes, even with Nyx and Castiel, but he seemed to sleep better in Nyx's company. After he finally fell back asleep, the little girl nestled between Meg and Castiel. They had left Elizabeth after promising to come back, especially since Nyx liked her so much and Benny didn't want her alone too long. A somehow awkward goodbye with Elizabeth was compounded by Sam's almost sheepish way of thanking her after nearly shooting her. The vampire had noticed the shyness and promptly said Sam was as bad as Dean.

Meg simply eye-rolled and kept going with single-minded determination, going well over a hundred so the miles peeled by. Louisiana was a long way from Colorado, and she had no intention of stopping. The bunker was unsafe, they all had agreed on that.

Castiel felt Nyx lift his arm and then snuggle beneath it, muttering that she was tired. Meg glanced down and turned up the music a little. In the back seat, Kevin murmured in his sleep and she wondered about him and what he was dreaming.

"You sure this is a good choice?" Meg asked, looking at him. Castiel stared out the passenger window for a while without answering, one hand rubbing his jaw. "Clarence?"

"The safe-house can work, Meg. With all the wards and spells, only humans can get in and out now." He looked over at her. "Benny said Eve will be close to Maine and we can't run all over searching for her and for Dean."

"Not Dean, Azazel," Meg corrected. "You want to take care of this, the first step is for you to stop thinking of him as Dean."

"What would you have me do?" the angel asked. "Forget my friend is in there?"

"No." Meg's fingers flexed on the steering wheel. "That might be our only hope."

* * *

The long drive had felt endless. The sun was setting by the time they reached the safe-house and its lonely structure stuck out in between the trees, small and insignificant. From what Sam had told him, Benny had thought it would be some grand building, with massive gates and walls. The simple little building, barely two stories and very old, was not something he had expected.

"So how do you know that whatever is in Dean can't get in here?" he asked as Castiel helped Nyx and Kevin into the house. The little girl was almost bouncing in her excitement to be home.

"Various reasons." Castiel was going to refuse to answer but he stared at the vampire. "You're not hungry, are you?"

Benny shrugged. "I haven't been hungry since your girl touched me." As Meg passed him, he winked. "Not for food anyway."

Castiel glared at him and Benny smirked at the hostility there. He'd missed teasing him.

"Unless you two are back to…?"

"Back to what?" Meg asked as she moved out of the way for Kevin. The prophet clutched Castiel's arm thankfully and the angel was kept from answering as he had to help him find his way to the couch.

"Oh, just wondering what was going on with you and the Auntie. Or if you're just playing the divorced parents again. If that's the case, well then, it is lovely to be around you," Benny said, openly teasing Castiel now as he and the demon followed them. Meg smirked, seeing the angel's agitation as he set Kevin down and told Nyx to be gentle with him.

Knowing exactly what Benny was doing, Sam eye-rolled in response and dropped his gear on the floor. Meg leaned back against the doorframe, enjoying the hostility between him and Benny. The vampire winked at her to let her know he saw exactly how she felt and then resumed his flirtatious grin. Castiel squinted at him suspiciously.

"Yeah, Cas, what exactly is going on with you and Meg?" Sam asked. The angel glared at him next.

"Yeah!" Nyx piped up from the corner, causing all the adults to look at her.

"Nyx, don't help the vampire," Castiel grumbled. She shrugged as if his words went in one ear and out the other.

"Not a hard question, Auntie. I'm just curious," Benny asked as the angel squeezed between him and Meg. Castiel looked over him and then Meg. When he saw her smirk, he realized they were toying with him.

The demon gasped in surprise as Castiel bent his head and kissed her deeply. The sight of it made Sam blush and look away as Castiel pushed the small demon into the frame, parting her lips with a force that made her give a soft little moan in answer. Benny even went a bit red at how passionate the kiss was and looked up at the ceiling in embarrassment.

Castiel let Meg go eventually and she stared dumbly up at him, knees weak from the feel of his mouth on hers. Straightening his tie, Castiel glared at Benny. "Does that answer your question?" he asked.

"Hell, more than answers it," Benny agreed. Sam nervously waved his hand in the air and went back to Kevin.

"Well, I feel a little bit cleaner." Meg gave a contented grin as Castiel walked around her to get the last of the bags from the car, his hand trailing over her waist in a possessive touch before he left.

Benny raised his eyebrows at her and Meg arched an eyebrow before saying, "He likes to be blunt."

"I bet."

* * *

Settling Kevin and Sam was easy, with Benny sitting on the front porch to whittle away the hours by cleaning weapons. Sam was exhausted, and Kevin had no urge to stay awake with the pain in his head anymore than he had to. The television was turned to the weather when Castiel left them.

Nyx, tired and happy, had latched onto Castiel's leg in the bathroom upstairs as he tried to help her get clean. Her endless questions about whether he had missed her or not at all, when they could next see Lizzie, when they could find Dean, had to be answered. He saw the tired droop to her eyes and wheedled her into helping him. Then she was on his leg again, forcing him to walk stiff-legged to her room.

When she saw her bed, she let him go before running and leaping on the bed with a childish shout of joy. Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Meg to see her watching, running her hand over the doorframe to test all the wards. When he looked back, Nyx was in bed, burrowed under blankets. She watched Castiel with large eyes as he drew sigils through the window with a marker and as he passed Meg he noticed her running her necklace through her fingers.

"I can stay here," he offered Nyx, willing to be on guard for the rest of his life if needed. But the little girl simply snatched up the terrycloth toy Benny had made her.

"Not a baby."

Castiel blinked and heard a muffled chuckle from Meg. "But I…"

"Gonna take care of lil' Clarence and sleep," Nyx said resolutely, holding up the terrycloth towards him. "Benny said gotta be brave."

"He did, did he?" Castiel asked as he crouched by her bed and watched her. For some reason, he felt a bit of jealousy that the vampire had been able to comfort Nyx when at a time Castiel would have died for another chance. "That's good."

Behind him, he heard another chuckle from Meg. "So much for angels not getting jealous."

He glared at her and then felt small hands on his neck, Nyx hugging him again. "Missed you." She pat his face. "Love you."

She said it so seriously that it made the way she flopped back down almost too childish. But he smiled and tucked her in. "I love you too," he muttered, the ache the words caused not unpleasant.

Nyx yawned, rubbing at her face before flipping the blanket over her head. Castiel shook his head fondly and then turned to make sure the room was locked up properly.

Meg backed away into the room and braced over the loft railing to look down. Sam was wrapping Kevin's eyes with new gauze and the pair were talking quietly to one another, the older man apologizing and the prophet asking for pain killers. Then he sat back and turned on the television, the loud white noise eventually sparking into a news program.

She felt Castiel come up beside her, his arms resting on the railing. "They're exhausted."

"Yeah." Meg noticed how Sam kept nearly nodding off on the chair.

"They'll be hard to wake up," Castiel muttered. "Maybe if they get enough sleep, things will be better in the morning. So we'd have to be very quiet."

Meg had been so concentrated on watching the pair of them that it took her a moment to realize he was flirting with her. "Oh, subtle."

He smirked and edged closer to her, one hand sliding around to lock her in against the railing. "I did learn something when I was human," he muttered against her ear.

"How to be a flirt, right?" Meg asked, eyes closing as she leaned back and felt his fingers nimbly sneaking up the back of her shirt.

"Yes." The rasp of stubble against her neck made her shiver as he ran his lips over her ear.

"Good," she muttered and he muttered something back as he pulled her backwards, step by step, and flicked the light off so the room was plunged into darkness. As good as her night vision was, Meg couldn't see with him behind her. He tossed their coats off, and never stopped touching her.

"I do like when you try to take control," she muttered and he wrapped his arm around her waist, yanking her back.

"Try?"

"You're cute when you think you've got one over me, angel. Cute and…" Tilting her head back, she grazed his jaw with her teeth. "Almost… vampirish."

He made a sound and toppled with her on the bed, Meg muffling her laughter in the pillows. Grumbling noisily that she didn't appreciate him, Castiel stared down at her.

"I have you both again." There was an odd relief in his voice and his eyes were bright. "I want…"

"Celebration sex?" Meg asked, looking over her shoulder at him. "I like how you think."

* * *

Sam frowned up at the loft, about to nudge the sleeping Kevin. He had hear something strange, muffled noises like squeaks and voices. The house was supposed to be locked down, wasn't it?

Slowly he clued in to what could be happening.

"Oh God, why is it always me?" he whispered as he cranked the weather channel up.

* * *

Meg was aware that the angel draped over her back wasn't about to stop. She hadn't felt this overwhelmed in a while. The time in the car had been passionate but the emotion had been missing its depth; he'd needed to forget like she had. Now it felt different. She was feeling all of his emotions with her own; Grace tinged with love wrapped around her. His body covered hers, his hands clenched with hers on the mattress as his mouth stayed on the back of her neck.

"Quiet," he warned when she groaned.

His hand pressed over her mouth, muffling the loud cry she was about to give and she felt his mouth against her ear, murmuring for her to be quiet. She sank her teeth in sharply to the heel of his hand and jerked her hips hard, so that the jolt made his body thrust hard into hers and she came, eyes squeezing shut as her body throbbed with pleasure. Castiel dropped his head to her shoulder and bit his teeth into the soft flesh, bruising her as he clamped his hand tighter over her mouth, letting her cry out and not be heard as he struggled to keep himself from making too much noise as his orgasm lazily overwhelmed him.

The loud crack of the broken headboard against the wall almost made him chuckle and he felt Meg laughing underneath his hand. Her body slowly relaxed beneath him, and he rested on-top of her with his nose buried in her hair.

"We tried at least, huh?" she asked, heaving for breath when they finally broke apart and she rolled to her back.

"We did." His shoulders, slick with sweat, shrugged. He had a drugged look on his face and he rested his head back down, causing the demon to look at the top of his head in surprise. They were still totally entangled, her legs wrapped tight around him and his entire body pressing her down.

"I'm that good, huh?" she asked.

"Maybe." He shut his eyes and sighed. "I suppose."

"Gee, thanks." Meg gave up on shifting him. "Gearing up for round two?"

He actually snorted against her neck. "I doubt the bed can take it."

"Might be right." Meg stretched her arms out to the side and sighed, feeling him slip down and roll over to the side of the bed, tangled in bed sheets and discarded clothing. With his head pillowed on her stomach, he was looking up at the skylight. Her fingers traced his jaw. "Cas?"

"Mm?"

"You're not so bad yourself."

He looked over at her. "Thank you."

* * *

_The world around him was in a strange technicolor. Too bright of yellows and reds, yet all the rest of the colours were muted. Sam lifted his hand and looked at his sleeve, noticing that his arms were glowing white. A sight he hadn't seen in years._

" _No… no no no no no!" he whispered, rubbing at his hands and feeling the incredible heat. He was going to burn. He was going to…_

" _You're so adorable when desperate, Sammy." His brother's voice oozed something beyond sibling affection, as if there was a film that the yellow-eyed demon managed to coat the rusty vocals with. As Sam turned, he knew he was right when facing the demon._

" _Yellow-Eyes."_

" _Ah, the good old names. I missed you, Sam, you know? You, your brother, your daddy… we all had such fun, back in the day."_

" _Not how I remember it."_

" _Fair enough." Azazel walked around him and Sam followed. Their surroundings were, as he slowly realized, the same little town near Amarillo. He kept having to remind himself that it wasn't Dean talking to him. It was a demon._

" _Why are you in my dreams?"_

" _Wanted to see if you were interested in saving your big brother," the demon offered. Sam stopped with a grinding crunch on the gravel. Azazel's back straightened. "I thought so."_

" _You… you want to make a deal with me?" Sam was starting to quickly lose track of all he had deals with. "Why?"_

" _You have something I want. Or someone."_

_It didn't take Sam long to figure it out. "Meg. You want Meg."_

" _Bingo, sweetheart." Azazel turned around and grinned at him a terrible grin with Dean's features. "What do you want her for? Threesomes with Castiel?"_

_Sam gave him a disgusted look. "No. I won't."_

" _No?" Azazel watched Sam turn away. "Not even if I convince Michael to leave and as we go, we snap your brother's neck." He knew he had him when Sam froze. "Or I can leave him a drooling, gross mess. Some demons are nice to the bodies they leave, a leftover weakness, but me? I would love to see you cope with your brother being locked in his own mind."_

_As he walked around the taller man, he saw that Sam had closed his eyes. "What do you need her for?"_

" _Her blood. I was going to go to Meg again but with that angel still sniffing around her, she's hard to reach." He shrugged one shoulder up. "Boils right down to it, Meg without something to do is like a soldier without an army to follow. She had that little girl but mm, she doesn't have that anymore."_

_Sam swallowed and looked to the side. But Azazel had seen the look._

" _Oh, I see. The little bastard is still alive. I should have known a vampire would betray me." Azazel's eyes seemed to glimmer a brighter and brighter yellow and Sam knew he had struck a nerve. "She had to die!"_

_He reached for Sam and just as his fingers brushed his chest something went over him. For a second, his eyes were a sad mossy green and Sam caught him by the shoulder._

" _Dean?"_

" _Sammy." It was his brother's voice, not Michael's or Azazel's. Sam felt it just in the touch of his hand. "You tellin' me the truth?"_

" _Yeah, yeah we have her. Benny saved her. Now we're going to save you."_

" _You don't need to." Dean was almost ready to fall now. "We agreed if it ever happened again, one of us being taken…"_

" _I know. But I want to." He clamped his hand on his neck. "We didn't come this far to let them win."_

_He felt the difference go through Dean immediately and backed off. Michael was taking over, he could tell by the brief glow to his eyes and the sharp smell of an angel. "Really, Sam? Still so hopeful."_

" _Why are you doing this, Michael?" he asked and the question still only made Michael shrug._

" _Because I can. Do you know what it is to be such a good son, and be torn apart for no reason? I led Heaven for centuries. I'm tired, Sam."_

" _You know what Azazel is really after with the Lethe," Sam pointed out. "You know all those souls, if he can take them…"_

" _I don't care. I never have. Let the demon have this world. Let him have that monster's mother infect everything. I don't care." Michael stepped so close that through the green of Dean's eyes Sam thought he could see the actual Grace controlling his body. "So give us what we want, and you will give you what you want."_

_He leaned closer, so he and Sam were nose to nose and Sam couldn't bear the pain he saw inside his brother._

" _Say yes, Sam."_

" _Yes."_

* * *

Benny slapped the tall man several times on the shoulder and when Sam jerked upright, he lifted his hands in the air. "Easy. You were dreamin' loud, Sam."

"Benny." He wiped at his face. "What time is it?"

"Only about five in the morning. Gettin' ready for sleep, myself." He held up a sharp blade. "Had some weapon work to do."

"Yeah." Sam rubbed at his eyes next. "Meg and Cas been up?"

"I know better than to go find out." Benny rolled his eyes up at the overhang. "I get the feelin' any intrusion wouldn't be a wise move."

"Probably right. Stay up."

The vampire nodded and looked at where Kevin was still snoring away. Sam gave the prophet a quick glance, making sure his bandages had remained clean overnight instead of sticky, and then made his way upstairs. The first bedroom to the left was closed and he was reaching up to knock when he heard movement in Nyx's bedroom. There's no way someone can get in, he thought to himself but he left the bedroom door and moved on.

Castiel sat beside Nyx's bed, chin supported by his hands as he watched her sleep. Sam stopped, surprised to see him there at first until he realized that it did make perfect sense. Castiel's grief over Nyx had been intense, even for an angel, and he naturally would never want to leave her. He was only in his plain white shirt now and pants, looking somehow worn out but content.

"She's deep asleep," Castiel whispered when he saw him. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to you." Sam rested his hand on the doorframe. "And Meg."

"About what?"

"Azazel. I dreamt of him."

"Ah." Castiel almost seemed to have expected that. "I'll wake her."

"She's sleeping?" Sam asked as the angel passed him. Castiel looked flustered, stammered a little, and Sam closed his eyes. "Not that I wanted to know but good for you, Cas." The fact that Castiel suddenly seemed mortified made Sam grin. "How's Nyx?"

Castiel looked at his daughter. "Exhausted."

"But happy?"

"Yes." His blue eyes were almost wistful. "Very happy. I still need to thank Benny."

"You scare him, so I did it for you."

"Thank you." Castiel waited for Sam to move down the hall and he stopped at Meg's door. "Sam. You saw Dean, didn't you? What did he say?"

"We should do what we have to."

"We're not going to, are we?" Castiel asked.

Sam smiled. "Not at all," he agreed before heading down the stairs.

Castiel pushed open the bedroom door and headed for the bed. Meg was curled up on her side, the sheet having fallen down around her waist. He noticed the red mark on her neck from his mouth, the slight burn marks where his stubble had rasped on her skin. The sight affected him more than he thought possible.

"Meg," he murmured as he crouched down beside her. One eye opened before she turned her head down onto the pillow.

"Go away." She reached out and shoved his face away and Castiel shook his head. "I was dozing."

"Sam needs to talk to us."

"You talk to him. I'm comfy."

"Meg." Reaching out, he turned her head towards him. "Wake up."

The demon growled and her eyes opened. "You so owe me sleep. I haven't had a comfy bed in weeks and my body pillow went missing."

He smiled. "I went to check on Nyx."

"I know. I watched you for the first hour before I tired out." Her mouth clamped shut suddenly and he realized she was embarrassed. "Nevermind."

"I know. She's still there. Still sleeping." He helped her out of the bed and watched her dress. "Meg, it is about Azazel."

"When isn't it?"

* * *

Sam was sitting with Benny in the small kitchen, playing with a matchbox, when they came down together. Castiel sat beside the vampire as Meg found another chair. "I… I never thanked you."

"It's all right," Benny said. "She's safe. That's what matters. I didn't do it for gratitude."

"You have it though."

Meg eyed them. "You guys going back to being friendly? Seems creepy," she pointed out, ignoring Castiel's glare. The vampire and him both edged their chairs apart and the demon focussed on Sam. "So go. Spill."

"Azazel dreamwalked with me."

Benny looked confused and Castiel squinted at him. "He found you. How?"

"There might still be fragments between Dean and I. It's connecting us and holding us." Sam rested his elbows on the table. "He offered me a deal. Dean's life." Reluctantly he looked at Meg. "For yours."

He hesitated and Castiel realized what he was about to say. "You said yes," he whispered.

"He was able to read my mind. He knows Nyx is alive. But for him to want Meg, means he must have found some way into the Lethe." Sam sighed. "I needed to give us time."

Castiel looked furious in that cold, tense way of his but Meg was staring at her nails as if they now absorbed her time. "So what do you think we can do?" Benny asked for them. "Because I'm in this to help Dean."

"I had a plan. Drag Eve back into it."

"Eve?" Meg looked up.

"The only creature likely able to take him down is Eve. Or…" He looked up at the ceiling.

Meg caught Castiel's eye and saw he agreed.

"If we can find a way to make them fight, it could work. Eve hated him and he betrayed her. Mother doesn't take kindly to that." Benny shrugged. "There've been worse plans."

"How do we get her there?"

"Dangle angel bait." Meg looked at Castiel. "You did the final number on her. She'd come for you, wouldn't she?" she asked and he nodded. "Let's make it a party then. Get Crowley there too with his usual posse. If everything is going to Lethe, let's get there right."

"How do we get those two out of Dean's body?" Benny asked. "Seems impossible."

"He can change how he feels. Say no to Michael. But it will take an exorcism to get Azazel out. The same thing we saw the Metatron do to Dean. Or we… we…"

"Kill him. An angel blade would do it," Meg said, for once softening her voice. Sam closed his eyes.

"I want to save him. Cas, is there anything the angels could do?"

"Michael frightens them, even Camael. I can't think of any who would fight him willingly."

"Then we improvise. Let Eve do her work on him. And we do for Dean what we have to do," Sam whispered.

"But that doesn't solve the fact that you agreed to deliver Meg to Azazel, to Michael," Castiel accused.

"What was I supposed to do? Have Azazel crush my brother's soul?" Sam snapped. "I did what I thought was right."

Castiel was so agitated that when they looked at him he seemed ready to fly off. "We can't give in to that."

"I get how you feel, Cas, I do. But what if this is the only way? Bait him with a trap."

"I'll do it." Meg said as they began to argue, oddly quiet. All three men looked at her. "What?"

"You're putting yourself in danger."

"I know that, feathers." She looked at Sam. "But Azazel tried to kill Nyx. No one does that and gets away with it. Plus he needs me for whatever reason."

"He needs your blood," Kevin said suddenly from the doorway and they all turned to look at him. He fumbled through the kitchen. "It was the spell I gave him, something I read from the tablets. Footnotes. I memorized them from the last time. He needs a soul touched by Gods from the primal source, a soul touched by the Lethe, by Heaven and Hell. No one qualifies more than Meg."

"Why not his own soul?"

"Because it had to be willing." Kevin sat down. "When you nearly closed the Gates, you sacrificed yourself, remember? Sacrifice is the point of these tablets. " His blind head turned and Meg nearly thought he was staring at her. "You made a willing deal and became a demon, you chose death and entered the Lethe, you chose Castiel and his Grace has touched you. Both God and Sheol touched you at some point. You're a doorway, Meg."

"Great." The demon put her head in her hands. "Just great."

"If he opens the doorways to the Lethe?" Benny asked, still only just catching up.

"He can ingest all the souls there. I think." Kevin tapped the table with his index finger. "If he does, he might get sucked in there. Taking Dean with him. And there will be no pulling him back when the doorway closes. No one comes back from there."

His head turned a little. "Except for Meg."

"How do you know this?" Sam asked.

"Prophet, remember?" Kevin rubbed his finger over a whorl in the wood table. "So what are you going to do?"

"What we have to," Castiel whispered but his eyes never left Meg's face. The demon gave a quirk of a smile back. She stood up and looked at Sam.

"How long?"

"A week's time. In Lebanon, at the bunker."

She nodded and started for the stairs, aware of Castiel on her heels. He crowded her until she turned.

"I won't let him take you."

Meg looked up at him. "We don't get to pick and choose all the time, Cas. This is our chance to maybe get some peace."

"Or lose each other."

"Do I look ready to die?" Meg grinned. "Come on, baby, you know me better than that."

"It could explain why it worries me so much," he whispered as he watched her go up the stairs again.

* * *

The Crossroads demon in Denver didn't know what hit her when Sam Winchester came into her favourite restaurant with a vampire. She had come, looking for decent wine, and now her meal was ruined. The demon folded her hands in her lap and watched. He didn't arm himself, just walked up with a loose swagger to his step and set his gun on the table. It was pointed at her and the demon understood the threat.

"Madam?" the waiter asked and she finished chewing her linguine before dismissing him.

"They're with me. For now." She reached for her red wine. "Sam Winchester. Sit."

"I'd rather stand."

"And your pet vampire?" she asked, eyes appraising Benny appreciatively. "Maybe he'd like something red himself."

"We're not here on a social visit."

"Who told you I was here?" the demon asked.

"A little demon told me," Sam said pleasantly. "Who are you loyal to?" At her confused twitch of her eyes he leaned down. "You can't tell me all you Crossroads are falling over to Azazel so easily."

She licked her lower lip and leaned close. "Tell me you're here to make a deal, Sam. Your lips are too tempting."

He swallowed and Benny rolled his eyes. "You can tell Crowley we want him."

"Why tell her? I know all," Crowley's voice was sudden and they turned to see him standing in the doorway to the private room. "What do you want, Sam? You already owe me a favour. I'd hate to have to ruin that pretty face."

"You don't think we came here by ourselves."

"I don't see the angel," he said. Before he could move, thin fingers were around his throat and he felt the press of a knife digging deep into his back, just shy of puncturing. He inhaled and looked out at the corner of his eye. "Meg."

"Crowley." She dug the knife deeper. "I was going to have Sammy here go by the old methods but I think this works faster."

He turned his head to her. "You're taking full advantage of my not being able to kill you, aren't you?"

Her dark eyes held his. "Yeah."

" You're going to do us a favour," Sam said. Benny walked around the table and snagged the red wine from the other demon, gulping it down. He shot her a disgusted look and she shrugged.

"A favour? What do I get in return?"

Meg dug deep and he chortled as the knife went past the skin and into muscle, going close to his heart. "I let you live in one piece."

"We had a small deal before," Crowley said, eyes on Sam now.

"I took care of Abaddon. Except you, you I'm willing to be a bit more creative," Meg whispered. "Before you say I'm a whore, which will get you killed, you can say yes to what I want you to do."

"Which is what?"

"Be ready, in Lebanon, in a week. You want your bargain carried through, you have to be ready to help," Sam said.

"What? That's it? You had to threaten me for that little request?" He tried to turn and her fingers tightened on his throat. "Okay! Yes!"

"Good boy." Meg didn't let him go for a moment and Sam cleared his throat. "Fine."

When he was released, Crowley turned towards her, backing towards his Crossroads demon. His back was weeping blood and he looked confused. "You could have just kissed me and made a deal."

"Oh, Crowley. I didn't have to do any of that. I just wanted you to realize how easy it would be for me to kill you," Meg threatened. He glared at her. "And you know what I'll do if you don't show up."

"Besides die?"

"I'll take you down with me. Azazel would love it."

That she saw fear in his fading grin let her know she had hit her mark. He was petrified of Azazel and for some reason that made her uncomfortable. If he was afraid of the old demon, she had reason to be.

But she'd made her choice.

"Better leave soon," Benny threatened suddenly. "I'm feelin peckish."

Both demons were gone with a snap and Sam noticed how Meg sagged a little into the door frame when they did. "You okay?"

"Perky. You got what you need?" she asked and Benny nodded, holding up the Crossroad demon's cellphone he'd taken from the table. She'd sent a text to Azazel.

"Good. Won't this be fun?"


	16. Burn (When Angels Change)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Azazel/Michael about to make their move, Sam grows increasingly desperate to save his big brother. Trapped inside, Dean is giving way to despair. Castiel and Meg are willing to stand together against the threat of their respective families in order to defeat this evil, but it is little Nyx who might hold keys to how they can all survive

The dark room was cold, and as the hours passed it was clear that the walls were slowly beginning to close in tighter and tighter. Occasionally, Dean would reach out and put his hand flat on a wall, just to reassure himself that he wasn’t imagining things. The wall would tremble and push back, warning him not to try to escape. 

All he would do, could do, was close his eyes and pray in a way he hadn’t in years. Pray with a desperation for things to turn out right for once, pray that he hadn’t made the wrong move. The longer he stayed in the dark recesses of his own mind, the more Dean began to believe that the chance he had taken was going to destroy him from the inside out.

Without any cracks of light to relieve it, the darkness felt stifling and Dean found himself strangely craving sunshine. It nearly felt like he’d been put inside a box, forgotten and left to rot. It gave Dean too much time to self-reflect, too much time to think and realize, with a terrifying horror, what Sam had felt when he had been possessed, by angels or demons. His own moments had never felt this intense, but now he was occupied by an angel who was using him as a personal punching bag. 

Resting his chin on his arms, Dean sighed and shuddered as he felt trickles of pain begin. He knew that Michael was doing this now. With Azazel in charge of the body, the part that was Michael would spend hours tormenting him just for something to do.

For years Dean had fought things like this and come out on top; his stubbornness always had been his best feature to outlast the pain.  Only now he couldn’t be bothered. His soul ached after being patched back together and he had lost that part of Sam that had kept him comforted, so what was the point?

_Sam was safe, Nyx was safe, they were all safe. That’s all I can hope for._

As another crack of agony tore through him, he groaned and hid his eyes, trying to block it out. There was a shift in the air and a hand touched his head gently, though he didn’t look up. He felt someone sit down beside him and cringed in preparation, ready for more pain.

“It’s okay, Dean.” Anna’s voice was soft, her hand on his. “They’re coming for you. You saved Nyx and we’ll be ready.”

“You, what can you do? You’re dead,” he muttered, looking over. He could just make out the shining red hair and the ghostly glow of her.

“We can do more than you think,” a second voice said and Dean’s head jerked up. “Even if big brother is being a dick.”

Anna only moved closed as her hand tightened on Dean’s.

“It’ll be okay, Dean. Just have faith.”

Then there was only silence and Dean realized he’d been left alone in the darkness.

“Yeah right. Have faith.” He leaned his head back and looked up as he tried to picture what sunlight would look like again. “What for?”

—

_Colorado…_

“Come on, Clarence,” Meg muttered to herself. “Where are you?”

The safe-house behind her was quiet with its lights were dimmed and Nyx watching the television and describing it to Kevin. There was nothing for Meg to do now but wait. Wait and let anticipation slowly begin to fuel her plans of what she had to do.

She sat on the front steps and stared at her car, as if expecting it to start up and drive itself off. The intense focus she had, the way her dark eyes never left its sleek metal hood or the faint patches of dirt that the road had splattered on its wheels, belied what was actually going through her mind. It had nothing to do with the car or the upcoming trip. One hand propping up her jaw, she tapped her nails against her skin just hard enough to feel the prick of them, just hard enough to distract herself with the irritating pain. It had been two hours since Castiel had left to speak to the angels and he hadn’t returned yet.

The past few days, spent in a sort of haze, had had them falling back into a routine nearly the same as it had been in that quiet month before Oklahoma. Nyx clung to all of them, falling back into happy patterns with Castiel and Meg, while she spent time pestering Kevin and his attempts to find spells and writings. When he wasn’t with Meg, Castiel allowed himself several long nights watching over her, preparing himself for what they had to do.

It was why Meg figured he had turned to being aggressive with her. There had been enough times when he had pressed her down on the mattress or against a wall when Nyx and Kevin slept, fingers and mouth making marks of passion and desperation. Even when he tried to be gentle, it seemed like he was wanting a way to let her know he didn’t like her easy acceptance of Sam’s plan. He was frightened of losing her.

_“We both know how this could end if you go,” he’d growled against her ear one night . She’d had to push him back, fingers digging into bare skin that had just seconds before been sliding so hotly against her own._

_“And you know what happens if he gets to the Lethe. You remember what happened to you? Imagine something like Azazel and Michael getting that much power.”_

When it came to Lebanon, Meg only knew that it seemed like the thing to do. She didn’t understand her motivations any better than he did. The more she thought about it, the more of a headache it gave her. 

Castiel’s coat made its tell-tale flutter as he returned, already walking towards her. 

“About time, feathers,” Meg grumbled. “We’ve only got so much time.”

“Did you say goodbye to Nyx?” he asked, ignoring her pettishness. “Or are you acting as if you don’t care still?”

He sounded tired, so she let that slide. “This really bothers you, huh?”

“I spent years wanting to protect you both. I remember how I was when you were in hiding, when we thought we had lost Nyx, and I don’t want to feel like that again.” He sat down beside her and clenched his hands on his thighs. “Should I?”

“Probably not.” Meg pulled out the weapons she would carry with her. Only three knives and her angel sword. “I do what I must. I’m tired, Castiel. Tired of running and never feeling like I can run hard enough to escape.”

“You survived this long.” He handed her the leathers she had lain out and she rolled her pant-leg up, fixing the buckles to lay flat.

“This? This is surviving?” She scoffed. “Hiding out, pretending to be something I’m not.”

“Nothing has been worth it?” he asked. Reaching out, he touched a tear in her jacket and his finger hooked in it, just grazing the flesh beneath.

“That’s the point. It has been. And I’m willing to finally do something to keep it.”

“At the cost of what?” The angel was staring at her and Meg lifted her head to the side to stare back him, search under the surface to just barely see the brightness that lurked within. At the same time, his touch sent something electric through her, as if he was branding her on the inside with just a touch and a look. Meg knew what she was feeling. He was warning her to be careful with a look even as he was letting her know his love with a touch.

The feeling it gave her was heady enough to cause her to sway a little toward him, ready to murmur the three words back to him when she felt his touch leave her. Meg pulled back and moved away, sitting on the garden bench to put distance between them. Before she blurted out what she felt as if she was truly lovesick.

Castiel just stared at her and she had the feeling that he knew anyway.

“Just so we’re clear: I’m leaving now. You are going to make sure the house is safe and go find your monster. Right?” 

“I suppose.” Castiel shifted from his place on the front steps to stand over her. 

“You know, if you put any less enthusiasm in your voice there, Clarence, I’m going to think you don’t trust me to come back.” There was something in her smoky voice that made him look over. Meg had reclined back on the bench, fitting straps to her ankle. The temporary holster fit close to the skin, a comforting weight, and she stroked the leathers thoughtfully.

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, watching her with a scowl. 

“Don’t look at me like that, feathers. People will think I broke up with you,” she drawled.

“I don’t like this.”

Her eyebrow arched and she looked up from the buckles. “If I ever took you being all angelically righteous seriously, I’d never have any fun.” She made a show of checking out his ass. “Or tapped that.”

He glanced down and then rolled his eyes. “You were enthusiastic enough to enjoy it. I remember it being mutual.”

“Oh boy was it,” Meg said with an infectious grin. “Especially that first time you asked me to….”

“I’m trying to be serious,” Castiel insisted. “And you’re deliberately being difficult.”

The grin dropped from her face and was replaced by a hard look that had him nervously looking away.

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be. I’m dealing,” Meg snapped.

“Nyx needs your protection.”

“Don’t,” she warned and she sheathed the two knives into their straps on her leg. “Just don’t do that on me. I’m not fragile and you know that.”

She turned her pant leg down and stood up, stretching her muscles. She couldn’t help but drag her heels a little, wanting him to follow her. He didn’t disappoint, this time crowding her against the car, and she felt a small thrill at how obviously he was affected by her stubbornness. 

“What do you expect?” he asked, blocking her in with both arms. “I’ve made it very obvious I mean to protect you.”

She tilted her head back, her wavy hair falling over his braced arm. “We do what we have to do, damn the consequences.”

“If the consequences is your life, or Dean’s, or Sam’s, then it’s not worth it.”

“Damn it, Castiel. Do you think I’m doing this because I care about the Winchesters? The angels? I’m doing this to protect what I have to protect.” She crossed her arm over her chest and glared at him, stepping close to try to intimidate him. “If I want you to do your guardian angel impression, I’d fucking ask.”

She shoved him back and this time put some force into it. Before she could move more than a few steps, Castiel had her by the arms and was shoving her back, pinned at the car. The Cougar’s door made a clunk sound and they didn’t release each other until she was between him and the car .

Meg couldn’t tear her eyes away because gone was the lover and back was the angelic soldier. She wasn’t sure which was sending hot sparks through her body but she felt them even as he glared at her.

“I didn’t spend those years waiting only to lose everything now, Meg,” he said. “And I won’t lose you.”

She rolled her eyes before looking the other way. “You’re a sap. Things are the way they are.”

He grabbed her arm, and she didn’t fight him as he pulled her in.

When he kissed her it hurt, the thrust of his tongue in her mouth sudden as he pushed her lips apart and she felt the sharp edge of his teeth catch her own tongue. The thrill up and down her body was just as strong as four years ago. Her muffled gasp swallowed, she could only clutch onto his shirt and pull him as close as she could. The sudden vivid thought of him imprinting his Grace on her had her cascading darkness into his own body. She heard the pained hiss he made, the air rushing against her teeth before he returned the bite of both teeth and power. The kiss seemed as cleansing as their first one had been and the shared agony only intensified as pain gave way to desire.

When they broke apart, his fingers were so tight in her hair that they caused an ache in her scalp, and her own nails were dragging against his neck, marking him a little. Castiel stared down at her and neither knew what to say as they both sucked in deep lungfuls of air. Meg brushed her hair behind her ears and dug her hands into her pockets. 

Eventually, she had to look away and without looking up at him, she ducked into her car. He stayed where he was, just watching her. Only the way she peeled out of the gravel driveway made him rock back to narrowly avoid being hit by the bumper as the car fishtailed. Licking his lower lip and still tasting her darkness on his tongue, Castiel watched the taillights grow dimmer and dimmer.

A small hand slipped into his and he looked down to see Nyx there. She watched after the car for a moment and then looked up at him. Castiel gave her a small smile but his troubled look couldn’t be erased.

What Meg was willing to do to have revenge and to protect her causes was what troubled him.

Nyx tugged on his hand and he noticed the way she looked so frightened. He squeezed back and tried to not seem so worried. He knew though that Nyx would know if he lied anyway.

“Have-ta keep her safe,” she whispered.

“I know, Nyx.” He looked up and frowned as he watched the car disappear from his sight. “I know.”

–

It took her a day to drive to Lebanon. The long drive gave her time to come to grips with what she might have to do. She knew how Castiel wanted to keep her back; angel would likely shove her in the corner as he puffed up his wings and defended his little family.  _Like a big peacock,_  Meg thought affectionately. Not that she didn’t find that all matter of adorable but he also knew what she was and what she could do.

She had started this. She was going to help finish it the way it had started. Her and Azazel; the father she had loved and served. It was a shame that Dean was in the way but Meg knew Sam. She knew he’d be trying to save him. Maybe he could.  _Maybe I can live past this,_ she thought, _but let’s not get too wishful._

When Meg turned into Lebanon’s outskirts, she noticed the eerie quiet that had overwhelmed the town. Her car’s low chugging motor seemed loud even when she slowed to a crawl, on the look out for any signs of attacks. But beyond the snow drifting in and out in hazy blurs, distorting the road, there was nothing Meg could see as she drove down the lane-way towards the bunker. When she cut the engine and there was still no sign of an attack, she sighed and looked down at her hands.

It wasn’t nerves making her hesitate. It was the knowledge that once again she was going against what she had been tortured to be, all for the sake of something she could never fully understand. Cursing herself for still being a little sentimental, Meg reached for the angel sword from the glove compartment and tucked it into her coat, followed by her only gun. The hidden knives were still strapped to her leg, and she rotated her ankle slowly before getting out of the car. 

Groaning, she stretched and slammed the door shut with her hip. The chill in the air was still vicious and she felt its cold bite when a gust of wind touched her face. With it came a smell, of thick algae and blood, and she froze, hand going to her jacket. 

A low grunting sound from close by had her spinning, knowing exactly what it was. When Adam had taken her hostage, she had felt that same presence, heard the grunts and groans. She saw the vined skin with its poisoned tracks, the reddening eyes, and she reached in for her gun as the monster loomed down towards her. A brush of wind by her hair had her twisting just a little before a bullet slammed into the monster’s head, hitting between its eyes. It went down with a groaning whine and Meg gave the warm corpse a kick before looking over her shoulder to grin at her rescuer.

“You’d better be on the lookout,” Sam said as he walked up the roadway towards her. “They’re crawling all over here and move fast.”

Meg rubbed at her neck. “Where’d they come from?”

“Don’t know. Word has it there’s some disease. But Benny and I checked and this is the same infection Eve was using. They’re typically out of sight. It’s like they’re waiting for something. Maybe she’s making more of her monsters.” Sam fingered the trigger of his gun.

“Or she’s infecting more creatures than we realized,” Meg whispered. “Any humans showing signs?”

“Not sure. The town’s quiet.” Sam looked around. “Wouldn’t be surprising that this could be a ground zero if something did happen.”

“Surprising? No. Shitty? Oh yeah.” She flipped her coat back, exposing the hilt of her angel sword if she needed it.

Behind her, Benny was eyeing the tree line. “We need to get out of the open. I don’t like what I’m feelin’ out here.”

“Where’s Cas?” Sam asked as he fell into step beside Meg, both of them headed for the door at the same time.

“He was with Nyx, warding the house. But I think by now he’ll be on Eve patrol.” Meg made to open the door and Sam caught her arm. The contact was so sudden she looked at his hand instead of at him.

“Don’t do anything we haven’t planned.”

“I’m a demon, Sam, that’s bound to happen anyway.” She jerked her arm free and headed into the bunker. “What is this? Concern?”

“I think you’re willing to do what it takes.” He held the door for Benny. “I just don’t think you really get what it could do to Nyx and Cas if something happens to you.”

“What about you, Sam?” Meg asked, ignoring Benny’s agreeing nod. “What if you die saving Deano? Will that be worth it? Or are you finally coming to grips with the fact that what is inside him might not leave?”

His entire face stilled and she shouldered past him, Benny close on her heels with an apologetic shrug. The deeper they went into the bunker, past the front steps, the stronger the smell of blood and charred flesh became. It saturated the air, enough that even Benny had a look of disgust rather than hunger. All three slowed down and crept down the archive aisles, ready for anything. But there was only the smell and the radio playing. The lights were flickering on and off, revealing red stained walls that made Sam’s stomach turn when he realized what stained them and he reached for his knife on reflex. The heavy meaty smell was so thick in the air that he had to try not to choke as the odours grew overwhelming. Benny steadied him with a hand and pushed him gently forward. He stumbled into the middle and as the demon and vampire joined him, the lights finally stopped flickering.

The sight of the four bodies, all pointing in different directions, could only mean one thing. Azazel wasn’t about to be kept waiting.  Gingerly, Sam put one foot out and nudged a body over. It was easy to recognize, through the blood, the hunter Sheila. Her mouth was slack, eyes staring up at the ceiling as her expression remained a frozen mask of horror and pain.

Behind him, Benny ran his hand over a wall. “This is all fresh,” he whispered.

“Would have to be,” Meg said as she came up beside him, eyes rolling up and then down to take in the puddles of blood. “When you make a call, the blood has to be fresh.”

“A call? Who’d he be calling?” Sam asked, eyeing the sigils and pentagrams painted on every surface of the circular room.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she countered, and Sam realized that standing at the second floor rail was his brother. Meg hadn’t turned but apparently had felt him coming. His brother’s skin was cracking at the pressure of the souls within and Sam could clearly see, even with the glare of light, the lines of blood starting to weep. He may have been Michael’s true vessel, but there wasn’t room for too many souls inside of him.

It was then Sam realized that if Azazel and Michael took the souls from the Lethe, his brother would break apart the same way Castiel had. 

“Dean.”

His brother’s eyes were a glinting green, hard and unfeeling, as he stared down at them. “Never will see who I am now, will you, Sam?” Michael had a way of making Dean’s voice terrifyingly static and cold. 

“I know my brother is in there,” Sam said as he watched him slowly walk around the second level, like a vulture ready to swoop down. “I’m not giving up on him.”

“You should, Sam, really. It’d be so much easier.” The green eyes went over the others. “You brought a vampire bodyguard. Azazel will be pleased.” Then his eyes locked on Meg, not showing much emotion. “And my brother’s pet.”

When he said that, a lightbulb cracked and exploded as if to accent his hate.

“Let me talk to Dean. I need to know-”

“You’ll get nothing until that demon is locked up.” He jerked his chin at Meg and then tossed down a pair of handcuffs. “You’ll see the place I want you on. Hope you’re ready to bleed.”

Meg let the cuffs hang from her fingers. “Show him his brother.”

“All this for Winchesters, Meg? Didn’t Azazel teach you better?” His head tilted. “He’ll see his brother after we start.”

The low snarls had Benny turning and Sam with him. Neither could see the hellhounds but they could hear them, and the shelves rattled as one of the invisible beasts bumped it. As they turned around to follow the bloody tracks the hounds made, Sam noticed a smaller demon standing in the corner and recognized Crowley when he stepped out from the shadows. 

“Now isn’t this interesting?” Michael asked. “Crowley was more than willing to tattle on your plans, despite his deal with the both of you.”

“I made a deal,” Sam protested.

“You did. You’ll get your brother back. When I’m done,” Michael said.

“You’re cheating him,” Meg said but she looked more bored than interested. 

“Not exactly.” Michael leaned over the edge. Meg sneered at him and then gestured at the Crossroads demon.

“What’d you promise the pompous prick?”

“Crowley, you do remember that I’ll give you Hell when I take my share of the Lethe souls, right?”

“Of course.” Crowley looked at Sam. “Sorry, Moose. A deal is a deal but if you don’t sign the contract, I don’t have to hold to it when the big boss is in charge. Unfortunate little problem. I won’t mind having Hell back to myself. Michael might not be as bad as boss as Abaddon.”

“You son of a bitch.”

Benny held him back, noticing that Crowley wasn’t alone. “Leave it. We’re stuck for now.”

“Yes, you have noth…” Michael stopped himself as his entire body did a twitch and he growled, fighting down whatever was inside of him. Sam leaned forward, anticipating Dean, but Michael straightened up and gave a pleasant smile. “Come on, while the blood is still fresh.”

Still looking annoyed, Meg snapped herself into the cuffs as demons began to appear from the archives to surround Sam and Benny. 

—

_Maine…_

Castiel made his presence known in the Hundred Mile the moment he arrived. Frustration with what had to be done made this so much worse and he let his power stretch out and snap, the singing sound of his Grace filling the air. He was worried and angry; Nyx had wanted him to stay but hadn’t stopped him when he’d told her to stay with Kevin. They were as safe as he could make them and now he let his emotions appear on the surface, raw and powerful. The trees rattled and shook as lightning creased the skies at his landing, creating a brilliant relief of his shadow wings as they coiled around him and then disappeared. 

The other angels close by dispersed immediately to form a loose ring around the clearing he had come to. Only Camael stayed still. Castiel nodded to him as he crossed the forest floor, but he didn’t stop, forcing the angel to walk beside him

“She’s fed, Castiel. But not healed.”

“On what?” he asked, eyes on the den amongst the trees.

“A demon or two that went too close. We never saw them again. There were humans. They may have been bit.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the trails that led to campsites. “We’re trying to track them but I’m not sure they were infected. Those that were attacked ran and they haven’t stopped running.”

He noticed Castiel’s irritated disappointment. “I’m sorry, Castiel.”

“Get the others out of the way,” Castiel snapped as he stopped and unsheathed his angel sword. Camael disappeared as Castiel quickly cut his palm open, letting the smell of blood get in the air. His eyes were on the dark makeshift den, with its thick cover and mud. Inside he could feel her. It was just a matter of getting out before her power, what was left of it, ensnared him.

“Come on,” he whispered and his power flexed around him. “ _Cnila Cal.”_

The illusion warped around him as he used his Grace to force it to come together. Like a ghost, he made Adam’s peeling wreck of a body appear, gravelly voice calling to Eve. It worked slowly and was deceptive enough that Castiel saw the other angels looking nervous. The mud and brush shifted around angrily and then slowly, dragging nearly useless limbs after her, Eve came. Castiel backed up as the illusion shattered under her building power.

Eve’s eyes were completely red and her tortured body was nearly unrecognizable, the decay of her power showing in the body she rode.

“Cassss-teee-eelllle.” She had to force her tongue to form the word. “Cassss-teee-eelllle.” Her head tilted down and then up. Reaching into her own mouth, she fixed her tongue and then cracked her jaw back into place, so her voice was nearly normal. “Hello, Castiel.”

“Eve.”

Her body straightened as much as she could and the feral look in her red eyes wandered over him. “You brought family. I’m going to tear you all apart.”

Castiel watched her come a few feet closer. “Don’t you want to tear apart the creature really responsible for you losing Adam, for tricking you?”

Her reddened eyes fixed on him. “He tricked me.”

“Come on.” Castiel circled her and his power gathered around him. “I’ll show you him if you’re not too weak.”

He alighted into the air to her goaded scream of anger, shooting across time and space for the bunker, leaving his trail open to be followed.

—

“ _You can run on for a long time. Run on for a long time.”_

Meg leaned on the wall, feeling the breath of a hellhound on her leg. It snapped at her face, forcing her head to turn, and then prowled over to the other hounds sitting near the archives. Across from her what was once Dean Winchester was singing in bad imitation of Johnny Cash. After making sure she was chained to the wall, he was finishing his sigils while Crowley stood near Sam and Benny with the other demons. The Crossroads demon looked too smug.

Meg knew he’d betray them but she had an idea it would cost him. Chained to the side, Sam and Benny were just as quiet as she was, biding their own time.

“You know, I wanted you here to witness this, Sam.” It was Azazel speaking, Meg could tell by the silky way he said the words. “You saw the Lethe once, didn’t you?” He fixed his coat. “Except for the vampire, everyone here has been touched by the Lethe in someway.”

“This where you tell me your master plan?” Meg muttered. “So hackneyed.”

She regretted her words as Azazel pounced and wrapped his hand around her wrist, squeezing so the iron cuff bit into her skin. “No.” He used his knife to slit open her jacket, parting the leather so he could rest the tip over her heart. “Is this where you stall me until your angel shows up?” he asked.

Meg looked away and he made a disappointed moue.

“Aw, Meg. Darling, you know that I know you. You’re predictable. Getting rid of Abaddon, trying to turn the others against me? Classic. But you forget one thing,” Azazel said as he leaned in so his lips brushed her ear. “I taught you all you know. No demon will forget that you chose an angel over us.” His breath was hot in her ear. “You were a sad little thing when I found you and you are pathetic now. Nothing’s changed.”

Meg shut her eyes and tried to ignore how those words made her skin crawl.

—

“Come on, Nyx,” Kevin said as he sat across from her on the floor. He had to reach out to touch the stone tablets, to reassure himself that they were there. “I need your help.”

He could hear her shuffling around. 

“Is there anyway of stopping this without killing anyone?” he muttered to himself. Nyx shifted, her feet making scuffing sounds and he knew that sound, could picture her biting her lower lip and looking at her toes. She was hiding something. “Nyxie?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Why is it a secret?”

“The man in black told me. Doors have-ta open.”

“What, why?”

“Because.” Nyx sounded frustrated by his stupidity. “They wrote the story that way.”

“Then how do we open this door?” He scrambled for a tablet and knew when he touched the demon one, where it told how the doorway to Hell could open up other places as well. “The door to the Lethe?”

“Don’t.” Nyx’s voice was small and frightened. “Don’t.”

“Why not? We can save your parents this way.”

“She’s not happy,” Nyx whispered. “Gonna be angry.”

Kevin reached out, searching for her soft dark hair to pat. “Your mom won’t be angry with us.”

“Gonna be mad,” Nyx said.

Kevin’s head turned sharply and he suddenly wished he could see her. “Nyx?”

“Don’t like this game,” she said, shoving away from him. He heard the tablets crash to the floor and tried to catch them. “He’s gonna hurt Dean.”

“Nyxie, please. I need your help, I can’t read the tablets anymore.”

Nyx sighed. “You read.”

“I just told you, I can’t!” he shouted but before he could regret it, he felt her hands on the side of his face. She held him steady and he sucked in deep breaths to keep himself calm. For such a small child, her comfort was so real that he gathered her up in his arms and hugged her. Nyx hugged him back. “They told me that the trials would be over, then I wouldn’t feel anything. What was the way out?” 

Nyx pulled back a little and he suddenly had a vision of her staring at him, wide blue eyes and smiling mouth. “Me.”

—

Meg watched Azazel as he bound her arm with the rubber tubing and positioned a small metal bowl . “Waste not, want not. Right, Meg?” he asked lowly and she stared into his yellow eyes.

“You don’t have to do this to rule Hell, father. All you’re going to do is destroy yourself,” she whispered, trying to wheedle him. He stared into her eyes searchingly. Then without any warning he slapped her hard enough that her head rocked on her shoulders.

“Don’t tell me how it should be, child.” He grabbed her by the chin. “You lost what I raised you to be. For what reason?”

She glared back at him. Unlike the others, she wasn’t torn apart by guilts that Dean was in there. She only saw Azazel and just twined around him, in a morbid parody of a lover’s embrace, was Michael.

“I don’t quite get it, boss.” Crowley was reclined in the chair. “Why even bother with the bitch?”

Azazel didn’t answer, just stared at Meg. “I held your deal, remember? I know all the sordid details of your past.”

She looked away.

“The hate, the anger, the lusts. You just wanted freedom, from everything that hurt you. For a price of course.” He took a hunk of her hair and turned her head back, ignoring her struggles. “I gave you all of that and look how you betray me.”

The alarm in the bunker went off and he smiled, kissing her forehead before he breathed out against her skin, “Company is here.”

He spun neatly on his foot and had the angel sword at Castiel’s throat before the angel could sneak up on him. Blue eyes wide, Castiel put his hands in the air submissively.

“Castiel, welcome to the party.”

“Azazel.” Castiel didn’t move an inch but his eyes went to Meg. “Meg, are any of you hurt?”

“Not yet.” Azazel nudged him with the tip of the sword and waved his hand. “Sit. Please.”

The angel didn’t move and Azazel rolled his eyes back, transforming into Michael again with just a flicker of power. “Brother, I am giving you the option that if I kill you, you at least get to look at the demon when you die. Take it. You’re already pitiful enough as it is without pretending you’re stronger than I am.”

Meg met Castiel’s eyes and shook her head just a little. The angel stepped back beside her, directly into the sigil that would weaken him and he felt it slowly zapping his power.

“Now it’s a party,” Azazel murmured in open delight as he clamped the other set of chains on Castiel.

None of the demons noticed Benny stretching his hands against his ropes to reach for his pant-leg.

“So, Crowley. A history lesson. Torture strengthens demons.”

“Yes. So?”

“None of you can see it, can you? Why it is so hard to kill her, why she can touch the Lethe. Under the surface our little Meg is the survivor that she was born to be.”

Azazel had her arm tight in his hold and he sliced the angel sword into her skin. “I chose her because of what she was. I felt how it could be, what she could have been born before. Maybe she has been touched by God before, maybe she is just a cockroach. She was forgotten. The way all weapons are left to rust, really. Left to be a slave to a cause.”

“A weapon,” Crowley repeated as he watched Azazel drain blood into the bowl.

“Didn’t work so well at the time. Souls are difficult to manipulate but Meg was particularly… difficult. She was so strong in conviction, that I had to break her faith first. Then that faith snapped and it was so easy.” He twisted the knife into a nerve to hear her cry out. “I think I was the only one to ever see that. Even Meg doesn’t know why I chose her.”

Meg kept her eyes on Castiel and saw his confusion at Azazel’s obscure rambling.

“It explains their attraction. Angels can be attracted to demons in a strange way. Demons are nothing more than Lucifer’s answer to angels. Like moths to a flame. Only there was something more in her, something only I saw,” Azazel continued. Meg finally looked at him and he smiled. “The soul always remembers what it wants, what it could have been. Maybe Meg always dreamed of Heaven and thought she’d be worth it.“

He tilted his head and leaned in. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I took you?”

Meg didn’t blink. “I don’t remember why.”

“That’s a shame.” Azazel leaned back. “Castiel would likely find it fascinating.”

"I love interesting stories,” Crowley teased, and he looked at Castiel. “Did you like tainting the angelic reserves, hmm?”

Castiel looked away and Meg twitched as the blade sunk deeper.

"I wonder how deep that connection is.” Azazel dug deeper. “Who knows your true name, Meg, besides me?” Her eyes were on Castiel again and the demon noticed. “You trusted him with it? So he can what? Chain you to him?”

She refused to look at him.

“You love him?” He forced her chin to turn. “Deny it and I’ll let you live, bring you and that bastard into our fold. We can rule. Admit it your love and you’ll be cast into the Pit after I bleed you dry.”

“Meg,” Castiel whispered but she wasn’t listening to him.

“I did love you as my father,” Meg muttered. “Even though I knew I was being forced to it.”

“Obedience,” Azazel agreed. “You were so good at that for a long time.

“But I love him out of free will.” Her eyes went black and focussed on him. “And that’s something you never had out of me.”

He hissed and slapped her across the mouth. “Whore.”

She crumpled down and Castiel caught her as best as he could. Powerless from the sigil, all he could do was hold Meg as they both stared at the demons. Azazel gave them a disgusted look and turned away, hopping down the steps towards the rear of the bunker. Meg’s arm throbbed with pain and over Castiel’s shoulder, she looked at Benny. The vampire eyed her in return and she slid her toe to her pant-leg, exposing just a tiny glimmer of silver. He nodded and leaned back, closing his eyes as if resting.

Suddenly, Crowley gave Sam a playful punch on the shoulder. “Just like old times, huh?”

“Should have known you’d have a hand in this.” Sam squirmed his hands in the ropes.

Meg felt Castiel’s hand moving on her leg, the pretence of checking her for wounds. Their eyes met and he nodded, understanding what she wanted as he loosened the straps .

“What can I say, Sammy? I’m an opportunist. You don’t live this long without picking the right horse to bet on.” Crowley walked across to Castiel and knelt down, yanking him away from the other demon. Meg yanked at the bindings on her hands but he was too far from her reach. “Isn’t that right, old partner?”

Castiel glared at him and with a shove, Crowley pushed Meg away. 

“Nothing personal, darling, but old Castiel and I. Well.” He pulled an angel sword out and let it glint in the light. “We have unfinished business.”

“Crowley.” The cold monotone voice of Michael made him look up to see Dean Winchester back in the room, holding the bowl now laced with herbs. “Don’t kill him.”

“Why not?” Crowley demanded and Michael’s eyes, shining with Grace, focussed on Meg as he knelt beside them both.

“Because if you kill him, the demon will be more unmanageable.” He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her after him. Meg swore, struggling to get to her feet, and Castiel lurched forward.

“Ah ah. Don’t be stupid, Cassie.” Crowley stopped him with a subtle lean, the blade of the angel sword resting point down on his stomach. “Funny thing, isn’t it? Life?”

He waited for Castiel to look back at him before continuing. “You said you’d come back and end me, burn me out. Because of Meg.” He leaned harder and the blade slid into Castiel’s stomach an inch. The angel grunted, teeth clenched to muffle the sound as scorching pain tore a tiny hole through him. “But here we are. You get to be on the receiving end.”

Azazel’s murmuring made both demon and angel look over to see him kneeling beside Meg, holding her still despite her pulling. The room trembled as the air around them seemed to close in.   
 _“Lethaeum ad limen.  Tibi dico. Lethaeum ad limen.”_  He paused, cutting his own hand to drip blood over a blood sigil beside Meg. She twisted, breathing hard to hide the pain when he drew a matching one on her exposed arm with the knife.  _“Qui cum exiit dæmonium a sanguine. Arte Dei.  Lethaeum ad limen. Tibi dico. Videam, quæso.”_

The temperature in the bunker seemed to drop and there was a low vibration coming through the ground, one that Castiel could feel through his hands. Every exhale of breath was steamy from the cold and he tried to move, only to feel Crowley pushing the angel sword into his stomach again.

Absurdly, Sam started to laugh and the demons closest to him grabbed hold to shut him up, smacking him down when he didn’t stop.

“Something funny there, Moose?” Crowley asked without looking over from where he was torturing Castiel.

“Yeah, actually.” Even though he was flat on the ground, Sam struggled and managed to lift his head a few inches from the floor. “You don’t think we were ready for this? We even left the door open.”

From where he was holding Meg, Azazel looked up from painting sigils on her skin. Crowley leaned on the sword but didn’t move it. The shelves and their contents were starting to rattle, bottles clicking and books toppling, and the lights began to snap on and off quickly, creating a strobe effect.

“What’re you talking about?”

Sam grinned at them both. “Why do you think Cas was so late?”

Crowley’s head snapped back to see Castiel staring at him. The faintest sign of a smirk was there. “You feathered bastard.”

The booming noise began in the back and lights began to flicker on and off. In Azazel’s grip, Meg laughed though it caused her to choke. His fingers pinched and squeezed on her throat, the knife on her arm cutting deeper so that more blood dripped into the sigil basin he had pulled over. Catching her eye, he narrowed his gaze and held her by the jaw. Her bruised cheek was cut just below the eye and he leaned over. 

“How many betrayals do you have left in you, Meg?” he asked softly.

The archives were filled with rushing air and heat, as if someone had suddenly set the furnace and generators on high. Let go, Sam rolled a little towards Benny and began to rasp the ropes on the sharp edge of the grating as he  kept his eye on them all. Benny, aware of the demons now confused by what was coming, bent over and began to saw the ropes on the knife in his boot.

The entire bunker trembled as Eve arrived in a flourish fitting what she had once been. With her twisted body and gangly limbs, she was a shadow of a monster, the jutting bones and torn skin fragments of the beauty she had  held. Her eyes were now like twin flames in the skullish face, orange light dancing over red iris. Long fingers clasped into fists, she turned her head slowly around, searching for something. 

Castiel made sure to keep his eyes on the floor, slumped as the blade piercing his skin went a little deeper in. Eve moved fast when she saw who straddled him and Crowley howled in pain as she flung him away from the angle and then crunched her hand into a fist. Her power snared and held him suspended in the air, like a fly dangling from a spider’s web. Eve’s head tilted back and she looked at the demons wavering. They backed away as one until one finally found his courage and started forward. 

Eve snapped her fingers and he exploded. The hellhounds, still prowling the archives, charged forward. Only to skit to a halt when Eve growled deeply in their direction and the shelves around them collapsed as they fell to their bellies, cowed. She swiped her hand through the air and sent the rest of the demons to their knees as well, the hellhounds yipping as her power slowly began to pull them apart, until black blood coated the floor in oozing trails. She had been saving all of this for her revenge, and the hounds’ black blood leaked across the floor.

The yellow-eyed demon only smirked as he watched.

“Eve, it’s been a while,” Azazel said as he clamped Meg’s cuffs around the post against the wall. He twisted his angel sword around and slammed it into Meg’s palm, pinning her hand. The demon screamed at the pain, hand lodged to the cement, and she hung there, her shackled wrist twisted as she sagged down to her knees. Azazel stepped over her to the centre of the room, eyes on Eve alone. 

Freed from Crowley, Castiel launched himself forward to reach Meg. Without turning, Eve lifted her hand and Castiel was thrown in the opposite side of the room. He landed heavily beside Sam and Benny and he had to spit up blood, aware of pain crunching through him as Eve’s power drove through the air in waves.

Benny grabbed him and Sam met his eyes. “Go. While they’re distracted.”

Castiel looked over his shoulder and saw that Meg wasn’t watching; she was trying to get free, while Crowley was still hanging limp, blood weeping from his eyes as Eve kept up the pressure. Eyes lingering on her face, as if he was afraid she would break and disappear, Castiel had to force himself to turn and run down the aisle, followed by the remaining demons who noticed him.

“You used me, used my family,” Eve snarled.

“I use everyone.” With Dean’s slow swagger, the creatures inside of his body conveyed the same easy confidence that he might have but with far more menace. His constantly changing eyes, from green to yellow to  green, showed how volatile he was. “Don’t take it so personally.”

She waved her hand and sent him crashing to the floor. “You arrogant ass.” She stepped up slowly, bare feet leaving bloody prints when she crossed the sigil lines. “My kind were natural, created by God. The demons, they were freaks. Abominations. And you? You’re the worst of all. If you were separate you would die.”

“Your kind?” The cold voice of Michael boomed through the room as he stood. “Your kind were freaks my Father was too weak to destroy, to drown like the rats you were.”

The singing sound of his power and the glow of tattered wings and angelic Grace filled the bunker.

“Benny, shut your eyes,” Sam warned and the vampire slammed his hands down on the knife edge, severing the ropes before he twisted down and covered his eyes. The room exploded into light and they felt the heat saturate as the sounds of roaring flew through the air. The demons closest to the centre shrieked as they were incinerated by the power Michael was exuding to intimidate the Mother.

When the light faded just a little, there were no demons left except for Crowley, still hanging in the air.  Skin scorched and eyes still fiery, Eve stood. 

“I will rip you apart,” she threatened and the rush of air in the room became hot once again. Like ants, a group of monsters seemed to appear from the shadows of the archives, brought in by the tail end of their mother’s power. “You used my children.”

Michael’s head twitched up and he looked directly in the direction Castiel had run to. The loud flutter of cloth and wings and Grace filled the air and Eve unclenched her fists, dropping Crowley head first into the tiled floor. His head cracked on the tile and he lay unconscious in a heap. Still ignored, Meg pulled her legs back from his body, sill fighting with the cuff.

Michael smirked as the angels that stood on in a semi-circle around them. One caught his eye. “Camael.”

The angel stepped forward from his brothers and sisters, youthful face sad. “I’m sorry, Michael. So sorry.”

His eyes went to Eve and she snarled. Her fingers outstretched and the two angels closest to her were flung backwards. The others watched as Michael turned away, slowly transforming into Azazel as he reached into his coat. Sam and Benny skirted around the circle of angels, grasping the shelves to hold on as a whirlwind of power began to tear around the circular room. The angels started for the monsters and the infected creatures began to howl in terrifyingly inhuman way. 

But all Sam could see was his brother and knew he needed to fight through the monsters to get to him.

 

Meg slumped down, fingers limp. It had been easy to plan this all until she was here. The angels had been Castiel’s back-up, his distraction, and his hope that sheer numbers could turn this around. But her own felt like they had been shattered by how ready Azazel had been for her. The pain in her hand ached so badly she forced herself to look at it instead of Castiel. The angel sword was planted into the brick and no matter how she pulled she was still stuck against the wall.

Another hand slipped around her wrist and she looked up to see Castiel stooped protectively over her. He wrenched the knife out of her hand and blocked as an angel that had attacked Michael was tossed in their direction. Meg met his eyes as he fought to get the chains free from the post they were wrapped around and then he looked away to focus. The post snapped in two as he pulled so hard that she cried out at the pain the tight pressure caused, but she was free.

Castiel cupped her neck with his hand, wordlessly asking her if she was okay and Meg let herself lean into him as he tried to get the iron undone.

Eve’s fighting was hitting its crescendo as bodies slapped together, as she tried to reach the angel she wanted to kill. The protective group of angels tangled together in a blur of light and Grace, buying Castiel the time he needed. As the chains finally opened, there was a flash of silver and Meg reached out, grasping him by the collar and pulling him forward on instinct to save him. The angel sword still scraped along his spine, and the pain scorched up his flesh as Grace wept from the open wound.

Meg pushed him under her to protect him and her hand went to her ankle, catching the hilt of her own knife. The sharp edge sliced open the buckled leather and she twisted on her knees, blocking the angel sword on its second swipe downwards. 

Dean Winchester’s face, looming over her, was like déjà vu but she knew what she was looking at. Castiel twisted and his angel sword slipped free to his hand though he had to struggle to get to his feet. 

“We’re not done yet,” Azazel snarled.Meg balanced on her knees, and dodged the jab towards her neck, ducking under his arm. It was Azazel controlling the body, she knew, when his yellow eyes fixed on her.

He smiled. “Not ready for you to die, Meg, not yet. Don’t make me kill you.”

“You won’t get that close,” Meg whispered.

“Won’t I?” He moved fast, faster than she could block and she cried out as his fist cracked against her jaw, sending her to the ground. Through the stars in her vision, she saw that Eve was still fighting the angels but headed towards them and in her desperation she was tossing bodies left and right. Getting her legs under her, Meg sprang up into Azazel and felt the blade graze her side before Azazel threw her off once again, her back slamming into the wall. Closest to her, Benny grabbed for her hand but was thrown away as Azazel stalked toward Meg. Castiel was on him next, holding his arm to block the blow, and Azazel’s eyes shifted to green as the angel inside took over. 

He choked through the hold on his throat, “Oh little brother.”

Castiel felt the tear in his back deepen as he struggled to hold him and he began to pant. “Fight him, Dean.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Grunting, he twisted and sent Castiel over his shoulder with a flip. Michael sounded bored as he licked his bloody lips. “Dean Winchester has left you all.”

Castiel ducked a coming jab and stooped to catch up an angel sword that had dropped. Blocking a strike, he rocked forward as he flipped the blades flat to his wrists. Michael charged and struck, trying to get purchase on the slippery ground, and Castiel spun, blocking the blow with one side and then the other. He focussed only on Michael as he fought, parrying with both blades before going on the attack. His fingers tightened around the hilts as Michael picked up a knife a demon had dropped and began to fight back harder. The clash of metal was loud, overcoming even the animalistic growls of the monsters.

Feinting to the side, Castiel dropped to a knee and slammed a sword into Michael’s thigh. The angel howled and slashed up, catching Castiel on the side of his face. The wound wept light and he staggered backwards for a step or two before advancing again. The closer he came, the more desperately Michael fought. 

Until he backed up into Meg. Realizing the advantage, he stepped downward and grazed her neck with the knife before she could move. Her shocked gasp threw Castiel off for a heartbeat but it was long enough for Michael to grab him by the arm and break his grip on the first sword.

He tossed the other angel into the wall with a whip-crack of power and stepped over Meg, who was struggling to get free from the rubble her legs were covered in. Suddenly caught up in his hate, Michael grabbed Castiel by his shoulders and ignored the loud battle going on behind him.

“Dean has such strange memories. You once beat him into an inch of his life for not fulfilling your faith.” He lifted him close. “Maybe I should return the favour.” 

Without any hesitation, he pinned Castiel up against the wall and began to slam his fist into his face repeatedly. Even when Castiel ducked and his fist hit the cement, Michael continued until Castiel couldn’t dodge the power behind those blows. His head rocked back into the wall, skull cracking repeatedly, and he saw the hate in what had once been his friend. 

“Michael… stop… this…”

“Oh no, little brother. This is just what you deserve.” He hauled him close. Castiel glimpsed Meg slowly getting to her feet, sliding in the blood around her, and Sam helping the angels battle the monsters, Benny at his back protecting him. He had to keep Michael distracted, he knew; it was why he weakly went to hit him back just to enrage him. Michael tossed him down to his knees and the angel sword in his hand flashed down, burying into his right shoulder and Castiel couldn’t stop the scream of pain from escaping his throat.

“I’m going to make you watch them all die, Castiel. Then you can feel what it is to lose it all, the way I did,” Michael began, lifting his fist again.

A smaller hand grabbed onto his wrist and used his forward momentum to throw him into the wall across Castiel. Meg limped in front of Castiel, an angel sword in her hand as she shakily swayed on her feet. Castiel stared up at the back of her, well aware of what he felt as he watched her stand in his defence, and then he looked at Michael as he picked himself up. The smaller demon stood between them, sword held up in threat.

The way Michael used Dean’s face for his cold smile was chilling. “Really. You? You’re going to save him?”

“Yeah,” Meg whispered. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You can barely stand.” Michael dabbed at the blood in his eye. “And your father is very angry with you.”

“Fuck him.” With her other hand, Meg clutched her wounded side, struggling to concentrate through the pain while around them monsters and angels battled. 

“Such language.” Michael circled towards Sam.

Castiel fought to heal himself, the drain from Eve making it harder and harder for his Grace to manipulate the air around them. His loud wince distracted Meg and she glanced back, wondering why he wasn’t getting up.  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. 

Michael ran for her and Meg blocked the blow just as the sword came towards her face. The weapon nicked her neck neatly before he grabbed her arm, Meg squirming as she tried to stop him from getting too much of a hold. But as Michael reached for her jaw and head, he felt searing pain in his neck and heard a loud growl.

Eve grappled onto his back like a wasp, teeth buried deep into his throat. He dropped Meg, blade slicing through her chest in a shallow wound before he and Eve went down together. Unable to stop the fall, she landed  across the blood sigil, struggling to find purchase as the power whipping around them once again began to tear through the air.

“Benny!” Sam shouted, tossing him the axe as the vampire dodged a werewolf and caught its snout in his hand. It snapped at him, paws digging into his arm until the muscle and flesh were torn to ribbony strips. Benny  snarled, knocking it back with his good arm as he started forward. Sam gripped the back of his coat as they managed to pull free from the fight. Benny grabbed hold of Eve’s dark hair and Sam grabbed onto Dean’s coat, hauling forward.

Together, they ripped the pair apart and Benny swung the axe down hard, beheading the Mother in a neat swipe. Her eyes still blinked, mouth slack in her surprise. Dean’s body twisted around, poison pumping into his body as he fought the infection. Azazel and Michael’s twin voices, twisted and screaming, were stuck in a harmony that wouldn’t stop. The infection was burning into them.

Tossed to the side, Benny and Sam sprawled on the ground and watched as the two creatures fought death. Murmuring for them to stay out of the way, Castiel crawled a few feet towards Meg as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his back . 

The Mother twitched, half-dead now as her exhausted power refused to save Eve. Benny cradled his torn arm and winced, looking around at the angels slowly chasing the monsters out of the building, intent on hunting them down. Sam only had eyes for his brother as he watched him fall to his back, no longer breathing. Despite Castiel’s loud warning, he scrambled through the slippery mess on the floor to go to his side.

“Dean, Dean,” Sam whispered, getting to his knees beside him. “I know you’re in there, come on.”

He slapped him gently on the face. “I won’t let you die.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered. “Sam?” he asked in a weak voice and Sam nodded, smiling. “That you?”

“It’s me. You’re going to be okay.” His eyes widened as Dean’s eyes opened and he realized that his gaze wasn’t green but yellow.

“Sucker.” Azazel shoved him off and threw Benny down one of the aisles. The remaining angels around them screamed as his power lashed out in hot waves. Castiel turned, realizing he was going to try to kill them, and his eye caught Camael’s. A moment of understanding, of shared thought, caused the other angel to nod and with a pop in the air he and the other angels disappeared. Castiel fell to his stomach, and looked up to see that Michael and Azazel were equally sharing the body now, the face beneath Dean’s a terrible blend of tortured demon and angelic Grace. His body contorted as he stood up and went to the wall with the largest sigil, fingers drawing rapidly with the blood from Meg’s body.

“Sam! Sam, stop him!” Castiel shouted, still struggling to get to Meg. His fingers grazed hers and he saw her black eyes open to stare at him. The demon’s head lifted wearily from the floor and they both watched as this time Michael began to chant as Sam ran for him. 

_“Da mihi animas. Da mihi in lucem,  da mihi, pacem. Ostende mihi chaos.  De sanguine daemonia.  De cruore corrupto. Cum promissione de iudicio. Tibi dico. Aperi ostium. Patefacio! Aperite!”_

The roaring in the air transformed from feral to that of a brass bell before dropping to silence. Michael looked around, bewildered by the stillness in the air, but then there was the snick of matches being struck. A hiss and the low snarl of flames.

Begging for forgiveness, Sam slammed a discarded angel sword into Dean’s back just as the sigil on the wall burst into light. Castiel reached for Meg’s hand just as the beams of light flooded the room and sent them all into darkness.

–

Even far away in the safe-house, Kevin felt the change. His fingers tightened in the pages he was holding and he felt it with all his being that it had worked. He had thought the spell was a dud but it had been the right one. Standing from the couch, he shakily reached out for where Nyx had been sleeping in the armchair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Nyx.”

As his hands touched nothing but the old cushions and she didn’t answer him, a deep knowing fear filled him. 

“Nyx?” Kevin whispered again, realizing she had left him alone.

****

_The Lethe.._

The breeze caressed his injured back, cooling the fiery burn, and Castiel lay still with his eyes closed. The sand beneath his face scratched his skin and he felt the slow crawl of water creeping up his body in lapping waves. It soaked his shirt and coat, the saltwater cleansing the wounds and bringing feeling back to his skin. He breathed out slowly, eyelids fluttering as visions of darkness and dotted starlight slowly left him. All he could do was lie there and try to find the strength to move.

_Where was he?_

“Daddy?” The piping, clear voice was close and he managed to weakly roll his head to the side, still resting his cheek on the sand as he looked through blurry eyes to see in the distance a small dark haired girl. Favouring his injured back, he stretched his hand out and dug his fingers into the sand. She was in the distance, a small mirage that waved and called to him again.

“Nyx?”

He heard her laughter and then she was gone. Castiel rocked his head back down and closed his eyes, exhausted and wanting to sleep and enjoy the peace he felt here. He felt oddly protected, loved, content to forget the rest of the world. He heard Nyx calling to him again, but he let himself fall asleep instead of going to her.

—

Sam woke with a start, head aching and mouth dry. The familiar other-worldly sensation, one he had come to know from his seizures, from time spent under the influence of demons or angels, was there but not the shaking or the pain. He rolled to his stomach and pushed himself up onto his feet find that he was alone on a beach. The warmth in the air felt good on his skin but he knew it was a trick. He had been here before, in a seductive vision he had rejected once.

“Dean? Cas!” he called out but he saw nothing to answer his call. “Meg!”

“Sam.” Her voice was low behind him, her opaque eyes searching the area.

“Meg. Where are we?”

“Lethe, Sam.” She looked around the barren landscape. “Or part of it.”

“Have you seen them?” he asked and she shook her head. “We have to find Azazel and Michael, before they cause more damage.”

“I think they already are causing it, Sam,” Meg whispered. “Can you feel it?”

Confused, he tried to focus on calm and his breathing slowed as he listened hard to what his instincts were telling him. Then he realized what Meg meant. The stillness was wrong and threatening.

“Come on,” she murmured, pushing past him up the beach. Sam kept close behind her. 

“How do you know we’re going in the right direction?”

“I just do,” she answered before springing into a run. So intent on keeping up with her, Sam didn’t notice how her body flickered grey for just a little.

—

“Castiel. You’re sound asleep. Naughty angel,” a woman said and, waking up with a soft murmur, Castiel turned over. He lazily opened his eyes to see Meg standing over him. Or at least, he thought it was Meg.

“Meg?” It was so hard to see her through the sunlight that shone in his eyes.

Her laughter was warm. “I can’t leave you for a moment.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, not yet.” She knelt down beside him, fingers sliding into his clothes, and before he could stop her she was kissing him. Gratitude that she was alive flooded him and he kissed her back hard, touching her skin to reassure himself that this was truly Meg.

But when he felt how hot her skin was, when he tasted her lips, he knew he was wrong. Shoving her away, he wiped his hand across his mouth and stared at the vision of Meg as she chuckled, the smoky tones changing to girlish laughter. Her face rippled and broke apart like a mask shattering, revealing a red haired woman beneath. He hadn’t seen the primordial god in her element before, had never thought to see her again. 

Sheol stared at him as if he were a bug to be squashed.

“Not bad, Castiel.” She lewdly licked her lips. “I can taste the attraction.” Fixing her white skirts around herself, she sat down and drew a heart in the sand. “Why are you here?”

“Azazel and Michael, they are going to tear the souls out of the Lethe.”

“Oh, I know that.” She rolled her eyes as she drew a jagged line through the heart. “I mean why are  _you_ here _?”_

“Where’s Meg?” he demanded and Sheol smirked. “What have you done to her?”

“This is the place she once longed to come back to.” Sheol tilted her head back to enjoy the sunlight. “Before you took her all was right with my demon. Before I gave you her, that is.”

“Be kind to the angel, sister.” Not caring that his sudden appearance caused the angel to jump, Death took a seat on the other side of Castiel. “He always was a bit slow to learn.”

Castiel closed his eyes, praying this was a nightmare. “I just want to find Meg.”

“Just Meg? Not the Winchesters?” Death dusted sand off his trousers. “This is a crucible for them, you know. Dean’s body will not hold up to three strong souls any longer, nor will it support the millions here. An angel taking souls couldn’t last, why should he?”

“Why are you both here?” Castiel snapped.

“I only woke up because of you all tampering with  _my_  domain.” Sheol was pouting now. “I want all of you out.”

“Then punish Azazel and Michael, only let me take Meg, Sam and Dean.”

Sheol’s grin was wicked. “Only them?”

“He doesn’t know so don’t play games, Sheol,” Death pointed out. Before Castiel could ask what he meant, he shrugged a shoulder. “I suggest you let Sam handle Azazel and Michael. Dean is strong enough to reject them but he needs to find the will. Sam is that key.”

“Though to be fair.” Sheol stretched her long milky white legs out and wriggled her toes in the sand. “Both Azazel and Michael did exactly what I expected them to do. But they forgot one thing about the Lethe.”

Castiel frowned at her and her jewel-bright eyes glimmered in humour.

“Only human souls lose their memory here.”

“Where is Meg?” he asked, ignoring her smile. 

Sheol eyed him. “Where you thought she would be. Here. In a way, a part of her has never left here.”

Knowing they wouldn’t help him, Castiel stood and began to run towards towards the tree-line in the distance and they both watched the shimmer of light that was his grace before looking in the other direction. A little girl wandered up the beach, calling to the light but the angel didn’t hear her. Nyx, caught up in the same world as her parents, gave up as she drew near to Death and Sheol. 

Sheol outstretched her hands. “Come on, beautiful girl, and we will tell you a story.” 

With no hesitation and fearless, knowing that her once enemy was now kind, Nyx settled in her lap and began to draw in the sand with her. Sheol kissed the top of her head, muttering at how big she was growing, and another warm body settle down beside her. Chuck smiled at Nyx when she looked up, and Death said nothing.

“Is it a happy story?” Nyx asked Chuck nodded and reached into his bag for a stack of papers, settling them on the ground. As he began to read, the wind would tear pages off the top but he never faltered.

“Once upon a time, there were two brothers. Two brothers who only ever had each other _,”_ he said.

“They were watched over by angels!” Nyx interrupted and Chuck smiled. “Just like me?”

“Yes, Nyx. Just like you.”

–

Sam ran blindly as he drew closer to the trees that seemed to spring out of nowhere. He had expected this to be like Purgatory in some way, with its traps and monsters. The Lethe was endless in its own way; stagnant, static, stationary. He could run for years, he realized, and not come to its end, and never see another soul. Meg flickered beside him and he finally had to stop to breathe.

“Are we any closer?” he demanded of her and she turned slowly. Sam finally noticed how she seemed to be fading. “Meg?”

She turned, about to say something, and promptly disappeared, leaving him alone. Sam called out her name several times and then turned around in circles as a forest seemed to shoot up around him. His body hurt from top to bottom and he just wanted to rest. This place was too strange.

“Sam.” Castiel came out of the trees. “It’s me.”

“Yeah, I know. I can tell by the way that you did your usual sudden appearance.” Sam looked around. “Have you seen them?”

“No. You?”

“Nothing.” Sam shook his head. “I thought Meg had led me here but I don’t think it was her.”

Castiel looked at the ground, finally absorbing what Sheol had said. “Part of her. It was a part of her that remained behind.”

“What?” Sam looked at him in confusion as Castiel started to look around.

“Every soul has a glow about it, a spark. But after the Lethe, Meg always remained cold. No matter what. Even when we touched, it wouldn’t last. As if what she had to keep her soul warm was gone. She left a fragment of herself here. That’s what we both saw.”

He sounded so certain that Sam decided not to argue.

“Great. So where’s Sparky then?” he grumbled, no humour in his voice. “And where’s my brother?”

—

Meg at first wondered if she was drowning. She couldn’t see through the thickness in the water, through the cloudy darkness that surrounded her. She felt the ice in the water, felt the scramble of her legs trying to kick free of whatever was holding her. But there was no agony in her lungs, no pain of dying. She was simply stuck.

 _I’ve come too far to die now,_ she thought to herself and kicked out hard. The grip on her ankle left and she surged up, arms outstretching. As fingers just grazed her ankle again, another hand stole into the water and caught her by the wrist, pulling with such strength that it nearly felt like her arm was to be ripped out of its socket. Meg gulped for air as she was hauled out of the water and then laid on a cushion of grass. Choking out mouthfuls of the water, she rolled to her side and saw a pond thick with scurf before she pressed her cheek gratefully into the soil and closed her eyes.

It felt like hours before she opened her eyes again, and she saw a young red haired woman and an incredibly intimidating man staring back at her.

“I told you we would find her.”

Meg squinted, not understanding what she was seeing. They were angels, her own demonic power warned her of that, but their light seemed muted. Absent of the brilliance Castiel shone with.

“She looks terrible,” the man said. “Are you sure this is the one we had to save?”

“Please, Uriel. Would you look so wonderful after being in the waters of Lethe?” The redhead held her hand out to Meg and with nothing else to do, the demon took it and let herself be pulled up. “Hello, Meg.”

Meg looked between them. “You’re angels. Let me guess. Castiel’s family?” she asked dryly.

“And Nyx’s.” Anna smiled at her. “We have watched her grow, Meg. For a child of a demon, for one with her parentage, she is remarkable.”

“Thanks, I think.” Meg ignored that little slight. “So…”

“Uriel.” Anna turned to her brother. “Find them. Castiel will need our help.”

The other angel nodded and flickered out. Meg was still struggling to breathe, the wounds in her chest ruby red and angry. Anna watched her trying to move before she took a seat across from her.

“It has been almost four year since we have all been in the Lethe, Meg.”

“Thought angels just hung out like a waste of space after dying.” She touched her injuries and winced.

“I forgot, you know nothing of our kind, not really.” Anna brought her knees up to her chest. “Do you remember the month of Nyx’s birth?”

Meg nodded.

“Years before, I was destroyed by Michael, burnt so that I had no form left. I wanted just eternal death but even that’s denied us, you know. We remain.” Suddenly, Anna looked around as if expecting something to come charging through the trees. “I was broken. Shell-less Grace put haphazardly together with no home. When Sheol’s spell on the tablet broke, when angels were sent to the Lethe, we found a temporary home, those of us that died.“

She reached down and touched the hem of her shirt. "The Lethe called and we went there. I didn’t even feel its warmth, not until… until…”

“Until?” Meg prompted when she was silent for a while, awkwardness building. She noticed Anna was blushing a little.

“She kissed me.”

“She?" 

"Sheol. She kissed me and I healed. I felt what I hadn’t felt in those years I spent watching the earth. I felt loved and wanted. The way our father would have once made me feel.”

Meg stared at her. “And for that, you think we should have let the Lethe burn Earth?”

Anna uncomfortably squirmed. “No.”

“But you’re haunting my daughter?”

“The Lethe could have been our home, Meg. It was everything that Heaven had been but there was no… no…” She snapped her fingers. “Individuality but we felt at peace. But then we lost it when the Lethe closed to us. We were drifting. So we chose the closest thing we had to a healing presence. Your daughter.”

Already annoyed with the lecture, Meg stood up. “Well, that’s a fun story but I need to find them and get the hell out of here.”

“We’re going to help you. Sheol used our brother as an example, but he is still our brother.” Anna smiled. “No matter what, we will bring him back to us. She brought us to the Lethe, so we will help you all leave.”

“But…” Meg turned on her heel. “Nyx is here, isn’t she?”

Anna stood, solemnly looking at her. “She followed you both, knowing you might need her. She’s a child but you are her family.”

“Take me to her.”

“She’s safe,” Anna soothed. “Trust me.”

“Trust you? Why?” Meg snapped and Anna smiled but disappeared without answering. The demon looked around and chewed thoughtfully into her lower lip. “Typical angel.”

“Meg?” She felt the call through all of her body and she spun to find herself in a hold that was strong and smelled of warm angel and life. Castiel’s body was solid and she relaxed thankfully. “It is you, right?”

Meg opened an eye and stared at the watching Sam. “What’s with him? He’s all hugs.”

“I think he had a hallucination of you. Something to realizing that your…” Sam shut up when he saw the glare Castiel gave him as he let Meg go. “Have you seen Dean?”

Meg shook her head, debating on saying something to Castiel. She saw how he was though, now that he’d found her; like Sam he was too caught up now in finding the last of them. “Any thoughts on how to separate the souls from his body?”

“If Eve’s bite is acting on him, maybe they’ll be weaker.”

“Maybe. Let’s not get too hopeful,” Meg answered, ignoring the way both angel and hunter glared at her. 

–

The waves kept erasing the drawings that Nyx was making in the sand, usually of two figures holding hands. Chuck watched her try to illustrate his story for him. 

“And the brothers thought they were doing the right thing,” he finished.

“They did,” she insisted and he smiled, noticing how she was already looking at the tree-line in the distance.

“Yes, they did. Because they helped protect life. They did exactly as they were supposed to.”

–

Sam felt the change in the air, saw it in the way the land changed, as they walked deeper into the Lethe. The hills flattened out and then fish-bowled in to a plateau of streams and white gazebos. Dotted in a large circle at the lip of the plateau were thousands of  ghostly shades standing, facing the trees to the left. All of them were motionless; even when he waved his hand through them there was no flinching or even flickering. It was as if they were waiting for an order. 

Castiel stared at the souls and then followed Meg as she walked towards the trees. Her focus wasn’t on the souls or even the way she felt the change in the air. It was going to happen and they had to get there before the souls were taken. Obediently, Castiel grabbed Sam’s arm and made him follow them into the woods, trekking up an escarpment to a hill that that overlooked the plateau. It was a beautiful spot, lush and green with clear streams trickling down to a pool of water on the other side of the hill. 

Sam looked around and spotted his brother at the top, crouched and watching the souls as he drew lines in the dirt. Up here the wind turned ice cold and something electrical seemed to hum through the air.

“Dean!” he shouted as he broke into a run, ignoring Meg’s snap to stay back. It was the way his brother’s back straightened and his hands flexed to fists that made him stop.

“Told you once before, Sam, he’s not in here.” Michael turned towards him. “But since you’re here, have a drink of water, stay a while. Because when I leave, this may be the only safe place left.”

Behind Meg, Castiel disappeared and she grabbed Sam’s arm to hold him back. Dean’s gaze turned yellow and hungry.

“Meg. Glad you could join us. Turns out I need a bit more blood to form a link.”

“Not likely.” Meg saw his eyes shift to green again and he pulled an angel sword out, resting it on his jaw.

“No? You might change your tune.” He turned and stabbed blindly in the air. The weapon caught Castiel in the stomach and Michael held onto his shoulder as he pushed it a little deeper. “When Castiel is drained of his Grace.”

This time it was Sam who held Meg back as Castiel stared at his brother, unable to speak. But he hadn’t been sneaking up on him without expecting that. His coat stopped the wound from going too far in and he had to fight to focus, forcing himself even closer. Dean’s face was almost unrecognizable now, twisted by what was inside of him. With his eyes on Meg, Castiel reached out and pressed his palm to Michael’s head.

“I’m not a demon,” the other angel hissed, trying to dislodge him but his hands were full.

“Not you,” Castiel whispered as he began to glow with light. It sent them falling to the ground as he kept his hand on the sweaty forehead and began to utter a guttural exorcism. Dean’s mouth opened wide as yellow smoke drifted out of his body, tearing through the air. The blood and Grace leaking out of Castiel’s own body dripped on Dean’s and he swayed on his knees as Azazel took over, as the demon began to push back.

“He’s going to fall,” Meg whispered and she launched herself into their glow, her hands burning from the sheer power they were exuding. She leapt on Dean’s back and Castiel was thrown off finally, crumpled down as the sword in his stomach ripped a shallow line to his neck.

Azazel hissed as he fought with the scrappy demon on his back. “Even if you get me out of him,” he threatened. “Michael will kill him.”

Sam dropped to his knees and cut his hand open with the sharp edge of a stone, drawing a demon’s trap on the ground quickly as Meg wrestled Azazel towards the demon trap Sam was drawing. He rolled her under him, fingers clawing at her throat. Meg’s eyes caught Castiel as the light streaming out of Dean’s body took on a smokey hue. Reaching out, he tried to grab her hand to pull her away.

The power around them was throbbing still, and they all saw that there were shades moving towards Dean’s body. Drawn to it and Castiel knew they would be absorbed by the final end of Michael’s spell. 

Inside his pocket, Sam felt something warm rolling about and he dug in to find the ball that Death had given him, clutching it tight. He wasn’t sure what it would do to Dean but when he looked at it, he thought he saw light dancing within. Starlight and sunlight, though he wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m going to help you, Dean,” Sam whispered as he realized what he had to do.

He just had to be brave enough to do it, like Dean had been.

He leaped forward and pulled Azazel off of Meg, slapping the black ball into his mouth. On reflex the demon swallowed it and then began to howl as light poured out of his mouth and body.

Sam realized then what Death had meant by life and creation. It was God’s Grace and Death going into the demon and burning him out. Clinging to him, he put him in a choke hold and tried to hold on as his body kicked and jerked. Azazel arched in pain as Meg helped hold him down, with Castiel kneeling down on his chest.

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,”_ Castiel began and Azazel howled as Castiel used his Grace to manipulate the force of the exorcism. He kept the words rhythmic as he used the hunter’s exorcism to help capture the demon and force it out. Smoke poured out of Dean’s body, a yellow and impure essence flooding from his mouth and dribbling like blood. Castiel watched Azazel’s eyes open to stare at Sam.

 _“_ I’ll kill him,” he threatened. Sam ignored the demon and looked at Castiel.

“Finish it.”

Castiel took in a deep breath and forced his power to crackle in the air around them. The souls were retreating, put off by what was happening, and he stared at Dean’s tortured face with its yellow eyes.

 _“Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri.”  
_ Meg grunted as she held on, felt the pull on her own demonic essence, but Azazel screeched as the Lethe and the exorcism pulled him and Michael apart. Dean’s screams became guttural as smoke poured out of his mouth and his legs kicked rapidly for several seconds before he sagged. The smoke drifting in the air coiled up and Castiel stared up at it. The shades surrounded them were gone now and he lifted his hand, letting what remained of his power to coil there.

He let loose with a blast of Grace to banish the demon and he heard its high-pitched scream.

Meg, hiding her eyes, felt the sudden heave in Dean’s body at the same time that Sam shouted for her to keep hold. Strong as he was, Sam was thrown across the clearing and Castiel was tossed in the air by a well-placed kick before Meg was smacked away. Michael, now in sole control of Dean’s body, stood and cracked his neck as he stared down at Meg. Savagely, he kicked out and caught her in the belly, sending her rolling away down the hillside. 

She crunched into a tree trunk at the bottom of the hill, dangerously close to the pond of water, and she groaned as she tried to get to her knees. The open gaping wound from her other cuts had deepened and she closed her eyes, willing them to stop bleeding. A soft hand in her hair made her look up to see a glimmering light, just before she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and tried to move.

Castiel scrambled to get to her as her body teetered on the edge of the water, not seeing the light that she saw. He was nearly down the hill when Michael caught him by the back of his coat and hauled him back, so close he could see the other angel behind the thin veneer of Dean’s tortured face.

Behind Michael, Sam picked up the angel sword he had dropped.

“Time to stay in the Lethe, Cas. You’ll like it.” Michael eyed Meg again. “You both will.”

“Dean.”

Sam’s voice was quiet, his eyes appearing tortured by what he had decided to do. Michael turned on him, dropping Castiel into a heap at his feet. The angel rolled to his side and saw Meg staring at something around them now. They looked at one another and she shook her head, still fighting to stay conscious.

“I know you’re in there, I know you can fight,” Sam whispered as Michael moved fast and grabbed him by his neck with a hand. 

“When will you take the hint, Sam?” Michael asked as he lifted the taller man off his feet. “Your big brother is locked up tight. Do I have to kill you to get that through your head?”

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. “Go ahead. We both know you’ve got nothing else. You lost everything you ever loved.”

His brother’s green eyes were glittering in pure hate. “I’m going to bring about my own Apocalypse. End this miserable existence. You should be thanking me. I’ll be a better god than my father ever was, than my brother ever would have been.”

“Maybe. But those souls aren’t around, are they? They’re staying here and you’ve lost,” Sam taunted. Michael’s face twisted further. “You lost, Michael.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.” Sam brought the angel sword up fast but Michael blocked the coming stab and the weapon dropped to the ground. 

“Oh, Sam. That really was the wrong choice.” With a twist of his wrist, he snapped Sam’s neck in retaliation. The crack was loud as the bones gave under the pressure and Sam’s entire body went slack and lifeless, his eyes staring sightlessly at the sky. 

“Sam!” Castiel shouted, getting to his feet as Michael dropped the hunter to the side as if he were worthless. The older angel looked at him before he kicked Sam down the hill to where Meg was. 

“Just you and me now, Castiel,” Michael said. 

–

_Dean had felt Azazel leave his body, torn away from Michael. His soul began to slam against the walls Michael had built to keep him in, and he began to scream Sam’s name, wanting his help to get free. The insides of his own occupied vessel were badly damaged, Michael’s Grace ripped in two from the force of Azazel leaving._

_“Sam!” he shouted. Inside of his mind, he began to bang away, wanting control again._

_In reaction, Michael’s Grace came crashing down on him in white-hot droves of pain, sending him down into the darker recesses where all he could do was try to watch what was happening._

_Sam would save him, he thought as he mustered his strength for another fight. He would._

–

Barely able to lift her head from the ground, Meg dabbed her fingers in her own bloody wounds until her fingers were soaked. Groaning, she reached out and began to paint on the tree trunk a familiar pattern, hoping that this would work. There was no point in all of them being stuck here to die and she was willing to save Castiel’s life.

But before she could finish, the pain in her stomach worsened and she had only felt something like that twice before. Once when dying and once when giving birth. She ached all over and the pain and desperation was slowly zapping her strength. It took all her will to force herself to reach out and draw the rest of the angel banishing sigil. When it was finally finished, she lifted her hand and closed her eyes, ready to free Castiel from the Lethe.

“Mommy?”

She turned over to see Nyx. The girl standing beside her, looking frightened. 

“Nyx,” Meg whispered, not caring how she had come here. “Get out of here.”

“Not leaving,” Nyx whispered. “Has to be a happy ending.”

“Nyx, go!” Meg snapped but her voice lacked the strength of before. She could hear Castiel fighting with Michael, and beside her was Sam, dead and already cold. Before she could yell at Nyx again to run, her daughter reached out and touched her head, and Meg felt overcome by a swirling darkness.

–

Castiel grappled with Michael, wrestling with him but unable to get a grip. He was too weak, he realized. Though Michael was badly wounded and the infection still in his body, he bordered on the rabid and it made him stronger. 

“I’m going to strip your Grace from you,” he whispered. “And you can watch me tear apart the world that you loved so much until it is nothing but a wasteland.”

Castiel tried to focus on his face as he swayed on his feet, hands ready to block another furious round. His head was struck right and then left but before he could drop Michael grabbed him by his collar and hauled him up. 

A flicker of light beside him distracted Michael, and Castiel weakly looked over as well. His eyes widened in confusion as Anna appeared and at her back, just as shadowy and ethereal was Gabriel. The two stared at them and Gabriel smiled.

“Oh, big brother,” Gabriel muttered. “I knew you had it in you. I don’t like being right.”

Bewildered, Michael looked at the pair of them and dropped Castiel to the ground. Castiel heaved for breath, trying to find any way of getting back up to fight. But like Michael, his amazement was for the group of angels now ringed around them. Angels long dead, either by his hand or the hands of others, shimmered and materialized, and their extinguished Grace seemed to reignite.

“Come home, brother,” Raphael said as he stepped forward from the circle. “Come back to your family.”

“That world deserves its punishment!” Michael roared. “And it will have it!”

“You don’t get a say in that, Michael. Your time was passed. Come home,” Anna whispered. “You can stay with us.”

“I’ll destroy you all. I’m stronger now.”

A tall blond angel appeared by Hester and Rachel, and shook his head.

“Oh, come on, darling. Yeah, you are strong. But, and it kills me to say this, there is something inside of you right now that is much stronger than you. Or did you forget that?” Balthazar warned. Michael’s head swung in his direction and he vanished from sight.

Immediately his eyes locked on Sam’s dead body at the base of the hill.

–

_Dean saw it through his eyes and began to scream._

–

“No,” Michael whispered as he felt Dean starting to fight him. Starting to _win_. “I am in control.”

Behind him, Anna laid her ghostly hand flat on his back. “Wake up, Dean.”

The other angels began to lay their hands on Michael and he began to scream as they began to force him out.

–

_“You killed my brother!” Dean screamed as he began to pull apart the walls that kept him trapped in his own mind. “You killed my baby brother!”_

_He felt the shuddering around him and the shining white that was Michael resting inside of him. “Get the fuck out of me so I can kill you myself!”_

_With a shove, he began to pummel the Grace surrounding his soul and invading his body with the strength he had left._

–

Castiel watched, fascinated by the sight of a ring of angels all touching Dean like supplicants to an altar. Only their hands glowed and as they did, his eyes glowed and his parted lips began to tremble. Castiel felt the reaction in his own body, Grace responding to Grace.

“We’re coming home. We can be happy here” Gabriel whispered. “Come be with your family, Michael.”

“Even though we’ll be trapped,” Anna continued.

“Better a life here than the ruin you would bring,” Raphael finished as he and Gabriel used their greater power to tear into him as he weakened. They began to pull the Grace from his body as Dean on the inside fought him. “We’ve learned what it is to find hope again.”

Michael screamed as he was torn apart, torn out of the vessel he had claimed, and his voice began to change to Dean’s, an echo of what it had once been. Something grey, a twisted light like stardust, began to swirl around his body.

–

_“You killed my brother!” Dean’s shouts were echos in his own head as he fought with the shards of Grace still inside of him. “You killed my brother!”_

 –

Michael’s Grace flooded out of his body and he screamed for minutes as lights began to flash and the sky overhead darkened to storm clouds. But the angels never stopped touching him. Not until Dean stopped glowing.

Castiel,watching, saw only the flash that went through the entire ring of dead angels. He felt their loss acutely as they disappeared and he knew that they were gone forever into the Lethe. Then there was only Dean’s body, sagging to the ground to his knees. Castiel watched, twisting the angel sword around in readiness, but Dean only swayed. His head lifted and he turned desperate green eyes on Castiel.

“Cas? Where’s Sammy?” he whispered, and the almost weak childish plea convinced Castiel. Without the angel in his body, his wounds reopened and he crumpled forward, Castiel catching him. “I need Sam, get me to Sam.”

Castiel half-walked, half-dragged them both down the hill to where Meg and Sam lay. Dean pushed up on his own and leaned over his brother, slapping his cheek as if the jutting bone in his neck wasn’t broken. His own swollen eyes barely let the tears come.

“Sam, Sammy? Please, come on. Come on, damn it. Please,” he whispered, his strained voice almost broken as he realized there might be no fixing this. “Please, Sam. Please wake up.”

Castiel watched and couldn’t say a word. Too exhausted by the Lethe’s drain on his own power, all he could do was crawl beside Meg. The demon, passed out from before, murmured weakly as he touched her.

“Meg?” He touched her face and felt her shiver. 

Without opening her eyes, she reached out and felt the gaping wounds in his body. “You’re hurt.”

“You too,” he whispered, slumping down against her. Dean was pleading with Sam still and the sight made Castiel have to look away, aware of his weakness.

“Sam, I need you with me. My pain in the ass brother who can’t be left alone for a second. Please, Sam. This isn’t fair. I didn’t do this to have you die for me.” Dean shook him before gathering his limp body into his arms and  rocking him a little. “It’s okay, Sam. I won’t let you die. Not alone. Not here. I’ll stay here. If you wake up we can leave.”

He pressed his face into Sam’s shoulder. “Come on, little brother, wake up. I have to take care of you, remember?”

“Where’s Nyx?” Meg asked suddenly and Castiel stared at the top of her head.

“Nyx?”

“Here.” The little girl seemed to pop out of nowhere and Castiel stared at her, dumbfounded. She noticed Dean and Sam and her eyes widened. “Sam’s hurt.”

“Nyx, how did you get here?” Castiel whispered. 

“Sam’s hurt,” she said. “Sam can’t hurt.”

Castiel reached for her but she was crawling onto Sam’s chest. Dean looked up, shocked to see her, and he stared, not sure what to say. But Nyx only had eyes for Sam.

“No more,” Nyx whispered, voice suddenly very adult. “Don’t want you hurt, Sammy.”

“Nyx, he…” Dean started.

Nyx looked over his shoulder and Dean grunted as he turned to see a red-haired woman in white staring down at him. Her eyes were on the little girl only.

“Want him,” Nyx whispered.

“You have to learn to let go, Nyx,” the woman said. “He’d be happy here. He’d forget everything, all his pain, everything.”

“He’d forget us,” Dean whispered. “I won’t…”

“No!” Nyx screamed and the wind picked up around them, sending her dark hair into a flurry about her head. Blue eyes fierce and protective, she laid her hands on Sam and Dean watched hopelessly as she started to cry when nothing happened. Sam still lay dead. 

“Want him. My friend,” Nyx whispered. “Come back, Sammy.”

The other woman disappeared into the air and Castiel reached out for Nyx to bring her away. But the smoky glow about her small body intensified and suddenly her tiny hands seemed to send a jolt through Sam’s body.

Meg felt it as well and she watched, wordless, as her daughter tried to use her power again. There was a loud crack as Sam’s neck fixed itself and the colour slowly returned to his skin. One hand on Nyx’s back, Castiel tried to feel what she was feeling and had to snatch his hand back from how much it stung to touch her like this. She was staring only at Sam, whispering his name.

Sam choked for air as his soul came flying back into his body and he opened his eyes in reflex. Everything around him suddenly seemed bright and beautiful, and he made a breathy chuckle as he realized what had happened. When he moved his head a little, he saw that Nyx was perched on his chest and she stared down at him in delight. 

“Nyx?” he whispered. His head turned to the left and he saw Dean. The fact that his brother was crying made him stare in wonder. “Dean?”

“Damn it, Sam,” Dean whispered in a choked voice. He gave a nervous laugh. “What did I say about dying on me?”

Nyx crawled off of Sam and Dean quickly swept him into a tight hug, ignoring how his sides hurt from the pressure on his deep wounds.

“Was I dead?” Sam asked, voice muffled by Dean’s shoulder. “It worked?”

Dean pulled back from the hug and stared at him. “You did that deliberately?”

“Figured I had to. I wasn’t about to let him take you that far down with him.” Sam gave him a weak smile. “Worked, didn’t it?”

As if deciding how to react, Dean’s fingers flexed on his shoulders and then he hugged him again. Over his shoulder, he noticed that Meg’s head lolled on Castiel’s arm but she wasn’t moving far. Smiling a little to himself, he gave Sam a hearty pat on the back and leaned back to save his sore sides. Nyx sat down beside Meg and Castiel stared at her.

“Gonna leave my friends here,” she whispered, and she waved at the glowing lights in the air. “But they happy.”

“Nyx,” Castiel whispered, reaching out to grab her by the hand and pulling her into his lap. Ignoring her uncomfortable squeak, he hugged her tight for a moment before he looked down at Meg. “Meg, I…”

He saw that she was staring to the side and he looked up to see Sheol standing just behind Dean and Sam again. Dean turned around but Sam held him back, both brothers dragging themselves closer to Castiel and Meg.

“Now. Let you out? Or  keep you all here. What to do, what to do.” Sheol crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe you’re thirsty?”

She waved a hand at the crystalline pool of water beside Meg. Her eyes were on the demon.

“Your choice, Meg.”

None of them were in any shape to fight and no one dared to move. 

Suddenly, over Sheol’s shoulder, there was a glimmer of light that was too distorted to see clearly. It surrounded her from behind touched her and made her red hair a halo about her head. A voice, male and calm, muttered, “Sister. Let them go.”

     “Or what?”

“We can rebuild. I will stay with you, help you heal. Do what I was meant to do. No more hiding.” The light became a hand, a face, a bearded cheek that pressed against her neck in an affectionate hold. Castiel tried to see through the light to see who it was but Sheol’s hand lifted and blocked his view. 

“Let it go. It’s over.” The voice was softer now. “Let go.”

Sheol’s eyes closed and her grey skin seemed to retain a healthy glow now. “Very well. If you will stay.”

She re-opened her eyes to stare at Meg. As if in a trance, the demon reached out to the water and her hand dipped into it, just as Sheol snapped her fingers. With a flash of light, they were all tossed from the Lethe to the musical tone of a ringing sound that they had all heard before.

—

Cradling his bleeding arm, Benny stared at his captive. Crowley, roped to a post and upright over a devil’s trap on the floor, was still unconscious. When the light had slashed through the air and the others had disappeared, he had been left alone in the bunker. He had nothing he could do but wait as the minutes ticked by.

When the rumbling started in the building, he gripped his axe tight and waited.

Then with a gentle pop, the blood-bathed ground with its litter of bodies was suddenly occupied by people he knew. Seeing that Castiel was okay with his tiny burden, he stumbled in to help Sam with Dean. Both brothers were battered and badly bruised, but when Benny inhaled he no longer smelt a demon or an angel. It was Dean. 

“Hey, brother,” he muttered and Dean’s eyes half-opened.

“Hey, Benny. You did good,” he muttered and then slumped down a little.

“Benny,” Sam said and he let Benny help him through the slippery blood to a bit of rubble to sit on. “What happened?”

“When you guys disappeared, the angels came back to get Eve. Said something about putting her back into Purgatory where she belongs with that backdoor to Hell guarded.” Benny jerked his chin in Castiel’s direction. “That young guy said Cas told him to.”

“Camael is loyal,” Castiel said as he gathered Nyx in his arms to keep her out of the blood. “He will do what has to be done.”

Benny blinked at the sight of the little girl. “Lil’ sprite, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Had to help them,” Nyx whispered as she hugged Castiel. She pressed her face into his neck and, stroking her back, Castiel looked away. The place at his side was empty and he was sure he had felt the demon there.

“Benny, did you see Meg here with us?” he demanded and the vampire blinked.

“She was never here. When you guys fell back through, it was just you.”

Castiel set Nyx into Benny’s arms and stumbled through the wreckage of the bunker, calling her name. Benny helped Nyx onto a piece of fallen shelf and turned back to Dean and Sam. Neither Winchester was up to much and he helped Nyx bind her feet in ripped clothing to keep her from being chilled. 

“I can’t find her,” Castiel said as he came back, looking distraught.

“I’m sure she’s…”

“I can’t find her!” Castiel shouted at him. Nyx whimpered and he closed his eyes. “Nyx, it’s okay.”

“Don’t mean to ruin the reunion,” Dean said from where he was slumped in Sam’s. “But I’m gonna go ahead and pass out.”

He did it immediately and even Sam looked ill. 

“We need to get out of here,” Castiel said as he crouched beside Nyx. “It’s not safe and I need to find Meg.” 

“What about him?” Benny asked, nodding at Crowley. Castiel looked at him.

“I’ll take care of it. Benny? Take them to the Impala.”

The vampire nodded and bent over to help Sam with Dean.

“Did you die in there?” Benny asked the taller man and Sam gave a sheepish nod. “Thought so. You smell all corpse-like.”

“Thanks, Benny. Real helpful.”

The vampire grinned. “I try.

–

“Wake up, Crowley.”

The Crossroads demon came to slowly to see Castiel sitting across from him, a little girl in his arms. Adjusting his sore jaw with a yawn, Crowley wriggled his fingers in the ropes as he smirked at the child. “Hello, moppet. You the daddy’s girl they were all protecting?”

Nyx frowned at him, fingers entwined with Castiel’s. “I don’t like him. He’s mean.”

“Now now.” Crowley’s eyes went red in threat. “That’s not nice to say to the new King of Hell.”

Castiel said nothing, just pressed his lips to the top of Nyx’s head as he stared at Crowley thoughtfully. She played with his fingers but her own eyes didn’t waver from the demon. Crowley tried to ignore the chill that went through him at the way they both stared, and gave Castiel a cocky grin.

“Can’t find your girl, I bet. Knowing the Lethe it sucked her back in,” Crowley continued, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice. “Do you think she’s crying for you now or happy to be rid of you?”

“Nyx?” Castiel touched her cheek and she looked up at him. “Can you go out to Benny? I need to talk to him alone.”

She nodded and then stuck her tongue out at Crowley before she blinked out.

At her childish display, Crowley arched his eyebrows. “Definitely your little girl, Castiel. All hellfire and grace. I like that. She’ll be one to watch, won’t she?”

Castiel stood up slowly and Crowley watched him warily.

“Going to untie me? I did help.”

“You betrayed us first. As Meg said you would.”

“Funny thing that. Where is your little whore, Castiel? M.I.A.? Run away? Maybe she’s about to mocking-bird you as payback.” Crowley leaned his head back on the pillar. “See, you get this whole idealism about demons redeeming their other qualities for what? For love? Darling, please.”

“I’m not here to talk to you about Meg.”

“Then why haven’t you let me go,” the demon pointed out. “Hell needs a leader.”

“I think after all this time,” Castiel fixed his coat, “it could use a new leader for a while.”

Crowley swallowed nervously. “You wouldn’t exorcise me.”

“I’m thinking that the Pit would give you an attitude adjustment.” Castiel’s eyes glinted with light. “Did you really think, all those threats, all those things you did to us, the betrayals, that I’d forget? For a day of help?”

“Fine. Do it,” Crowley sneered. His bravado was unfaltering. “I’ll be out before long, maybe by the time your little girl is all grown up and ready to play. I do wonder what she’ll be like. I can’t wait to find out.”

Castiel said nothing.

“So exorcise me to the Pit. Do it.” Crowley jutted his chin out. “I’m all tied up, after all.”

Castiel snapped his fingers and the ropes fell. The demon gave a delighted grin but when he went to teleport out he found himself stuck. He realized where he was, in the centre of a devil’s trap, and he growled deep in his throat.

“You don’t want me as an enemy, Castiel,” Crowley warned and the angel gave him a narrow look that was almost agreeable. "I will make your life a living hell. Starting with that little chit you’ve tried so hard to protect. What was her name again?”

Castiel looked into his eyes and his blood ran cold at the expression he saw there.

“You’re right,” Castiel whispered. When Crowley went to duck, Castiel slapped his palm to his forehead and his eyes began to shine. “I’m through with letting you run.”

The light that flowed from his hand seared Crowley, turning red as he was quickly burned out. There was no fanfare, no struggle.

He simply ended.

—

Squished between Dean and Sam, Nyx was so concerned with both men that she kept touching their faces and trying to shake them awake when they slept too long. Looking over his shoulder, Castiel touched her shoulder and raised his finger to his lips. Since the Impala was out of gas, they’d taken Meg’s car, and the miles were being eaten up by Benny’s effortless driving. Dean was no longer coherent, Sam slept restlessly, and Nyx was worried.

If he hadn’t been so weak, Castiel would have left to find Meg.

The radio was crackling, the weak reception bringing only political channels and old blues. Benny settled for the blues happily and hummed along as he drove with one hand. The low hum was stopped as the announcer warned that there had been a series of attacks. Reports were that there was a group of people wandering around the border line between Kansas and Missouri, attacking others. The few captured were in quarantine.

“Shit,” Benny whispered. His eye caught Castiel’s knowingly. “I thought you got them all.”

Castiel stared that the radio and the vampire waved his hand in the air while driving with his knees. “The angels can take care of it?”

“You saw the devastation, as I did. My brothers and sisters will need all their reserves to take Eve back to Purgatory and seal it.” He leaned back. “And I’m too weak to investigate.”

“Let’s hope some human hunters figure it out then,” Benny said, eyeing the pair in the back seat. “Because those two aren’t about to.”

Castiel looked back and then leaned in his seat again, aware of the damage they had taken. His own body was a mess of still bleeding wounds, the long slice that went from his nape to the base of his spine aching and soaking his shirt with blood. Sooner or later, he’d have to sleep to rest. Right now he couldn’t stop himself from watching the road.

“Lil’ lady will be fine, auntie,” Benny said when he caught Castiel watching each sign post that the Cougar sailed by. 

“She’s lost. I need to find her.”

The vampire looked over at him. “You’re exhausted. More than the rest of us.” He picked up his Sip N’ Gulp and drew hard on the straw. His wrapped arm was slowly healing as the blood he had brought from the Impala slowly began to help him repair. Castiel eyed the cup with open disgust and was glad Nyx was in the back, the metallically bitter smell was so strong.

“She might be…”

“Castiel.” Benny set the cup down and looked over at him, licking the blood from his teeth. “You’ve got a scared little girl back there. You’ve got friends that need your help and an army of angels who are invading Purgatory as we speak. They’ll need you as well.”

Castiel looked back at Nyx and saw her nervously twisting her little hands around Dean’s fingers as she stared out the window. Her eyes caught his. “Where’s Mommy?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Maybe she is waiting for us.”

Nyx smiled. “Safe-house.”

“Yes, Nyx,” Castiel said with a weak smile. He turned back around and his smile dropped from his face. “The safe-house.”

—

Meg turned her head slowly, aware of the water cresting over her back but she couldn’t move. The warmth felt good and she felt the salt. It burned the inside of her wounds but even though her skin smoked from the contact, she laid there and took it as a penance for surviving this.

She knew she should get up, that she had been tossed somewhere far from the others. For whatever reason, she hadn’t been left with them.

” _What if he leaves you again?“_  The softly feminine voice over her had Meg turning her head a little, cheek pressed against her arm. The depth of her internal injuries was enough to distract her so she ignored the voice. Something poked her side and she ignored that as well. 

” _Stay here. It won’t hurt. I’m going to give you something that will help you.“_ A man’s voice chuckled.  _“Cas won’t like it though. It’ll be harder for him to find you.”_

The poking in her side suddenly became a gentle touch and a warmth flooded her side. Meg felt it, knew that it was a sigil. Eventually, her eyes opened and she sighed when she saw something glimmering beside her. The grey light was beckoning her and she reached out to touch the light. It danced in her hand, a spark that caused an electrical current up her hand and down to the base of her spine. 

For the first time in four years, Meg felt completely warm and she closed her eyes again in contentment.

—- 

_Colorado…_

Sam woke up in a pile of blankets and the hard surface of a cot. Rolling over, he reached out and grabbed for the first thing he could feel and found a leg. He froze and quickly opened his eyes to see Kevin sitting beside him.

“You mind?” Kevin asked, head turned in his direction. “You’re not really my type.”

“Kevin, where- where am I?” he asked as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Castiel’s safe-house. The kitchen, actually. You developed chills, so we put you here where it is the warmest. It was the best choice, according to Benny.” Kevin’s hand waved in the air for a second until he found a cup. He handed it to Sam. “I’m watching over you.” He laughed then and gestured at his covered eyes. “Well, not really.”

Sam guzzled the water down, not caring how it dripped onto his bare chest, onto gauzed patches that covered his wounds. The water just tasted so good, he thought, before he started coughing. Handing Kevin the cup back, he moved to the edge of the cot. 

“Where’s the others?”

Kevin held up his fingers. “Dean’s sleeping on the couch, Benny is in the basement sleeping. Cas is with Nyx and trying to contact Meg using all of her old phone numbers.”

“She’s still not around?”

“No idea where she is. Cas isn’t doing well over it either.” Kevin shrugged. “Maybe when you were all tossed out of the Lethe, she got an extra shove.”

“Maybe.” Sam winced at the cold hardwood under his toes and reached out to put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder.

“Sam? Can I ask you something?” Kevin’s voice was quiet and when Sam murmured agreeably, he leaned back. “The Lethe. What was it like?”

Sam thought back. To the sameness of it all, to the forgetfulness that had almost afflicted him. “Terrifying,” he admitted. Kevin was quiet and Sam looked at him. “Why?”

“I wanted to make sure this was worth it.” The prophet stood and began to feel his way to the fridge. “Go see Dean. I’ll be fine.”

 Sam stared at him, saw the resigned set to his mouth, but didn’t say a thing as he went to the living room.

His brother was stretched out on the couch, bound up as thickly as Sam was. His face was slack in sleep, the cuts on his upper body slowly healing over to scars on his neck and shoulders. Sam sat on the coffee table, praying it would hold up his weight, and reached out to touch his hand.

Dean’s wild jerk, the way his eyes darted around, had him tightening his grip.

“Let me go!”

“Dean, Dean!” Sam held on and reached out with his other hand only to have Dean bat it away. “Dean, it’s me.”

“Leave me alone!” Dean’s eyes wandered frantically over all the surroundings, the glassy look verging on hysteria. Sam gripped him tighter. 

“Dean! It’s Sam. Sam!” he said and finally, Dean took in a deep breath. 

“Sammy?” he asked as he squinted at him. “That you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam grinned at him. “It’s me.”

“You died.” Dean was trying to clear his head. “I saw what Michael did to you.”

“Nyx, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah.” Dean pushed up onto his elbow and looked at the wrappings on his arms and chest. “Guess we took beatings.”

“Yeah.” Sam reached out and gave him a hard poke in the chest, where a gouge was still healing. It made Dean yelp in pain. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Dean asked, punching him in his own injured shoulder for retaliation.

“You let them possess you, you idiot!” Sam snapped. “What the hell did I tell you about acting like a martyr?”

Dean’s mouth took a minute to work. “Wait a second, I did it to save you all. And yeah, well, you let Michael snap your skinny neck.”

“I did it to save you!”

“I did it to save you!” Dean retorted and the brothers stared at each other. “I wasn’t about to let Michael kill my brother. I wasn’t going to leave you to the Lethe anymore than Nyx was.”

Sam’s jaw worked and he closed his eyes. “This is just going in one big loop, huh?”

“Yeah but…” Dean sat up and winced as a bruised rib caused him pain. “Least this time I was the one possessed.” He squinted around the room. “Safe-house?”

“Yeah.” Sam looked as well. “What are we going to do?”

“First thing we can do. Get better,” Dean said. “Let’s hope Cas has some ideas.”

“Don’t bet on it. Meg’s missing and from what Kevin told me, he’s upset.” Sam sat on the couch. 

“Shit.” Dean shook his head. “She did us a real favour but even then… if he’s lost her…”

“I know.” Sam leaned forward with him  and sighed. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” His brother looked over at him as he finished scratching at a wound’s edge. He found himself swept up into a hug and he choked at the pressure. “Jesus, Sam, I mean I get you missed me but…”

“Just shut up and hug your brother,” Sam said.

Dean gave up and hugged him back tentatively until he realized why Sam seemed so concerned. How close they had both been to death.

Then he used his other arm and hugged his brother back tightly.

—

Meg found herself on the side of a highway in the northeast. She wasn’t sure why she wandered like this, in ruined clothing. She wasn’t safe, she knew that. Anytime now, a demon would show up, an angel to smite her, but she didn’t care. It took all of her effort to put one foot in front of the other.

Only there were no demons. Not even when she finally caught a rabbit and used its blood to make a call, no one answered. She turned to prayer but there was nothing. No matter how she prayed for Castiel to show his feathery ass to her, there was nothing. It was like there someone blocking her.

For the first time, Meg hated this loneliness. So she walked, hitched rides, not knowing how she was going to get to the bunker. She had woken up on the Eastern shore and it would take forever. Anytime she tried to call Castiel, there was nothing on the other end but static and an annoying high-pitched whine. Even the Winchester’s numbers were out of service.

Meg was starting to doubt her own sanity. It was like none of it had ever happened.

Following her at a distance, the angel who had been blocked her prayers watched her curiously. Sariel had been lucky to find her on his travels, he knew, and he was careful to keep his distance. Camael had said to be watchful of her, that she might have brought something back with her. But this demon looked only tired and alone.

When she flagged down a truck, he moved forward but felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning and half-expecting it to be Camael, the angel saw a smaller man smiling at him who wasn’t an angel or a demon. Just one look in his eyes made the angel’s knees tremble and he knew him. Knew him with loving need and he bowed his head in respect.

“Father.”

“Leave her alone, Sariel.” Chuck’s eyes went to the demon climbing into the truck cab. “She’s going home.”

The angel swallowed and nodded, and then the man in white was gone. By that time, the demon was out of sight and no matter how Sariel searched, it was as if she had never actually existed.


	17. Ashes (When Angels End)

The week dragged without Meg. Castiel found himself staring at doorways, looking at shadows, going to old seedy bars around the town the safe-house was near. With Dean and Sam slowly recouping and his own Grace still exhausted, he was stuck in how to find her. 

Even when his power recharged enough to let him travel, he couldn’t use his power to feel her. It was like four years ago, when Nyx’s power had hid her, but this time there was no shadow of her even lingering. No angel knew where she was, the few that had returned his call shrugging over it. The demons were in such disarray without leadership that the angels were using it to their advantage to send as many back to Hell as possible. It was chaotic. None of them cared about one demon.

He did though.

Nyx’s birthday came and went without ceremony. Castiel remembered vaguely and when Dean had suggested getting her a cake, it was Nyx who had refused. She didn’t want a birthday, she had cried, she wanted her mother. She was unhappy as Castiel was and despite the way the brothers tried to help her, she missed her mother too much to give in.

At night, when the safe-house was silent, Castiel lay on their bed and stared up at the skylight. A _ny minute now,_ he thought as he pictured it. She’d sidle in, brace herself overtop of him with her smug grin and her darkness showing just under the surface of her skin. She’d touch him while making fun of him for missing her. His demon would be late, it would be just like her. But she’d be alive and he could forgive that. She had to be alive; it had to just be Meg’s twisted sense of humour to make him miss her. Castiel clung to that with a desperation he had known before, knowing that without her his faith would fall further.

Why would he be given her again only to lose her when things looked its best? 

It wasn’t only his grief he felt now. Nyx would slip into bed beside him at night and cry, and Castiel resigned himself to his new duty of protecting only her. Reading his books to her until she fell asleep. Watching the days pass and waiting so patiently wore on his nerves.

There were the shadows though. Always the shadows. He searched them for her in hopes that soon he would be able to see her staring back at him.

_Why hadn’t she fallen out of the Lethe with the rest of them?_

On the seventh day, when his anxiety became too much, he left Nyx with Dean and Sam and finally flew out of Colorado to look for her. He went everywhere they had been recently: the bunker with its now destroyed interior, the motel near St. Louis, the bars, the diners. But no imprints or trails were left behind. 

He wasn’t sure how he found himself in New Hampshire, on the same beach where he had had his first dream of Nyx. There were no reasons to be there except for a tiny bit of pressure at the back of his mind that maybe if it had let him glimpse his daughter in the future, then maybe it would let him glimpse his demon. 

Castiel was barely aware of retrieving the supplies and the bowls, everything he needed to call her. He was still in a grieving haze when he struck the match and began calling for her. It would hurt her to be summoned so powerfully but better that than anything else.

“ _Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me.”_ He had to fight to remember the words as the seconds ticked by without her. _“Nahara_.  _Veniat ad me._ ”

But there was no crackle of power, no shift in the air to show that she was coming to him. Only emptiness and shadows though that pressure that tormented him continued. Castiel overturned the bowl and scattered the herbs to the icy wind.

The New Hampshire beach was cold in the early spring, the beach slippery under his shoes as he paced its length. Castiel didn’t see anyone else through the rain and knew that using his exhausted powers to stretch out and find Meg would be impossible. But he knew he’d felt her here. Where was she?

Castiel stopped walking and stared out at the water. Sheol had thrown them all out and for some reason had separated Meg from him; it was terrifying to think that Meg had disappeared. Each small wave that was lapping at the shore made him wonder what if she had been left there.

"Meg, where are you? _”_  he asked aloud. “Please.”

The rain soaking through his coat felt cold the longer he stood but he didn’t move from where he stood. He’d been brought here for a reason, he was sure of it.

What if that reason was to have his faith broken again?

“Meg,” he whispered.

Then he felt it. Like a shadow lingering beneath the brilliance of his Grace. Something shifted behind him and his entire being stilled as he heard someone breathing. 

“Took you long enough, Clarence, to summon me like that. Ordinarily I’d be pissed but you saved me from having to walk all the way across the States to find you.”

Closing his eyes, he exhaled and fought to breathe again when he turned to face her. With her hair hanging in wet tendrils and her skin so pale it was luminescent, Meg was ghostly in appearance. She was soaked, her clothing sticking to her,  and revealing not only patches of skin but the healing marks on her sides and neck. Her bruises were an ugly yellow and the longer he stared, the more she fidgeted under it.

“Say something, Clarence.” She managed a half-smile. “A ‘Hi, Meg’ would be nice.” 

“I’m not sure what to say.” He stepped closer and saw her shivering. “You’re hurt.”

“Give me a few hours of sleep, some good booze, and I’ll be okay,” she answered, eyeing his face curiously. “What about you?

She gasped when he reached out and grabbed her by the back of her neck. His other hand slid around her waist as he pulled her in. When she was tight against him, he bent her backward a little and covered her lips with his own. Meg gave a pleased hum as he kissed her, shuddering when his hands gripped her so tightly. Her body pushed against his as if desperate for his warmth to overwhelm her, her hands sliding under his coat as his own found the bare patches her torn shirt revealed. The quick search found her wounds, some festered by her lack of care, but he dropped his hands to the exposed skin above her hips and pressed her into him. 

Moaning, Meg’s mouth searched his so they both tasted rain and he shuddered as the hands under his coat took a more intimate turn when she found his skin. The kiss felt good with all of its passion and he thrilled in how  _alive_  she was, at how she moved her mouth in time with his to keep the kiss lasting.

By the time he pulled back, they were both out of breath and soaked by the crashing waves and rain. Dripping water curling on her eyelashes and cheeks, Meg’s arm slid down from his neck a little, though she was still pressed into him. Castiel watched her recover her breathing and felt her fingers tugging on his wet hair gently. She gave him a surprised look and he smirked at having caught her so off-guard.

 “Really were worried about me, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he murmured, thumb smoothing over her cheek. “Come home.”

She grinned. “Never thought I’d be so happy to hear those words.”

—

Dean and Sam were on the porch, the overhang protecting them from the sleet, when Castiel fluttered them back in. The brothers were shoulder to shoulder and staring at them both incredulously. Dean gave the demon an awkward nod and she stared at him appraisingly. 

“You look like you’re carrying less weight, Deano.”

“Yeah?” He looked down before he realized she meant the souls. “Nice, real nice.”

“Where did you find her?” Sam asked Castiel curiously. 

“North.” He hadn’t released his hold on her hand and both brothers noticed. “How are you both?”

“Alive and kicking.” Dean shrugged and then smiled at him. “Thank you.” Grudgingly he looked at Meg. “Both of you.”

“No problemo. It was fun.” Meg swayed a little and Castiel looked at her.

“What part?”

“The near death experiences? Such an aphrodisiac,” she offered flirtatiously and he rolled his eyes, ready to argue with her when he saw her smirk. Catching on that she was half-joking, he gave her a scornful look that was betrayed by the light in his eyes.

“Much more than I needed to know, thanks,” Dean muttered. “Benny’s just cleaning up after dinner.”

“Where’s Nyx?” Meg asked and Dean and Sam pointed up behind them. 

“She’s been crying but I put her to bed,” Sam said. “She’s cried herself to sleep.”

Castiel watched Meg leave them, headed into the house, and he stopped by Dean and Sam. “When are you thinking of going back?”

“Soon as…” Sam began but Dean hit him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Whenever you’re ready. Go on and send Kevin down here.” He waved his hand. “Sam and I are going into town, have a few beers with Kevin and Benny, and reminisce. You can take care of Nyx tonight. Get some sleep.”

Castiel shook his head. “Very well.”

Sam waited for him to go into the house before he gave Dean a look that had his brother looking too innocent.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Sleep?” Sam rolled his eyes. “You really think he’s going to sleep?”

“Nope. He just found her and judging by the looks they were giving each other…” Dean made a face. “I’d rather not think about it. Let’s go drink to forget it.”

“Good idea.”

–

Kevin was still in Nyx’s room when they snuck in, and expressed no surprise when Meg murmured a greeting. The demon crouched by Nyx’s bed, staring at her in obvious fascination. Castiel, watching them both, wondered what it was she was seeing as Meg stroked Nyx’s face.

“She’s not changed,” he whispered from the doorway and Meg didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Not that you can see.” She pushed dark curls out of Nyx’s face and smiled. “It’s kind of weird. We did all of this to keep her safe and she found ways of keeping us safe.”

“She was created to be a solution,” Kevin said suddenly as he stood up and began to feel his way out of the room. “That’s what I think she was doing. Solving this the only way she could.”

The cryptic words made Castiel shake his head as he helped him down the stairs to the Impala. Meg still crouched, fingers tracing over the small nose and the parted lips before touching her pulse. It beat strongly and Meg realized how much in the past week, as she had wandered alone and lost before Castiel had called for her, she had needed to touch this part of her. It didn’t matter that in reality her body was stolen. The soul in this little girl was connected to hers.

Nyx’s eyes opened a little and she reached out to touch Meg’s mouth. “Mommy?”

“Hey, monster.” Meg smiled at her. “Did you take care of them?”

She was still too sleepy to do more than smile. “Yep.”

“Good girl.” Nyx’s arms moved up and Meg leaned down, letting Nyx wrap herself around her for a hug. 

“Knew you’d be okay. Missed you,” Nyx whispered and Meg smiled. 

“Missed you too.”

When she pulled back, Nyx gave her another sleepy smile and then finally fell back asleep. The flutter behind her made Meg look up to see Castiel, his hand held out.

“Come on, you need some attention.”

“Flirting with me again, Clarence?” she asked even as she took his hand and stood up. He led her back to their bedroom, hearing Dean shout out a goodbye before the front door closed and locked. 

Meg took a seat on the bed, removing her jacket and wincing as she did it.

“You’re still too weak to heal?” he asked and she shrugged, watching as he tossed his coat over hers. There was already a bowl of water, washcloths, and a first-aid kit beside the bed, and she chuckled at the sight. Murmuring to himself, Castiel set the kit on the bed and began to set what he needed on the side table. He helped her out of her shirt, noticing the scar tissue already forming. Moving her bra straps to the side, he splayed his hand on her shoulder and checked the depth of the wounds still not closed. His touch was gentle but he noticed how badly she winced as he catalogued what was wrong. Muttering for her to stay still, he leaned over and pushed her straps lower.

He kept his eyes lowered as he wrapped and began to gauze and tape the marks he was most worried about. She was quiet for a while as he worked before it became too much and she reached over to grab the cloth. 

“I saw how bad some of your wounds were before the Lethe. How’re you doing, feathers?” Meg asked as she gingerly began to clean her arms and shoulders. He moved so he was sitting at her back and took the cloth away from her. Slowly, he used the rough terrycloth to wipe the grime, blood and sweat from her skin, fingers gentle when he touched an injured patch. Submitting herself to it, Meg leaned into the touch and closed her eyes.

Castiel realized she wanted an answer when she repeated her question after he had cleaned her entire back.

“I’m healing. The Lethe seems to have some aftereffects and it is making it hard for me to heal.” He leaned forward over her shoulder to reach the antiseptic. “Meg, I… realize now.” His hand smoothed down her skin as he cleaned the last of the marks. “What it was like.”

“Do you?” Her head tilted to let him check the bruise below her ear. “I kind of get what happened to you now too. Being alone and knowing you were all able to continue on without me. It was strange.”

“Yes.” Castiel touched the nearly healed marks on her back next, aware of his own scars that now ran the length of his spine, before he turned away to set the kit away.

When he turned around Meg moved to straddle his legs and he helped her move into his lap. She looked down between them before her fingers began plucking open the buttons of his shirt. He stared at her bent head and then helped her as she pushed it over his shoulders.

His hands were on her belt when he felt hers brushing them away. She nestled close as she undid his clothing, hearing his heavy breathing when she started to reach for his trousers.

“I was doing this to heal you,” he muttered in amusement as she stroked his chest, letting the skin turn hot.

“You did. I feel a lot better.” Meg took his face in her hands and held him steady to kiss him, tongue stroking against his when he parted his lips. Castiel let his hands creep up her back and pulled on her hair to expose her neck, his mouth sliding over her skin next. Meg groaned and held him close as he undid her bra and then her hands went to his shoulders. She pushed him as she lowered herself over his hips and he fell back with a thud. Meg smiled and pressed a biting kiss against his hipbone, peeking up at him when he touched her hair. 

“Now shut up and let me make you feel better.”

–

Dean and Benny were struggling to match each other, though the vampire was hard up to hide how much he didn’t like the cheap liquor. Dean was struggling to finish his two beers, the liking for it gone since his sobriety had started. Kevin listened to them more than anything else, and when Sam leaned across for the pitcher, his head tilted.

“Your phone is vibrating.”

Sam blinked, not having felt it. Still eyeing the prophet in a puzzled way, he checked the number. “It’s… I don’t recognize the number.”

Dean polished off the last of his drink and shrugged. “Put it on speaker.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Sam laid the phone in the middle of the table and pressed the button. “Hello?”

“ _Sam Winchester?”_

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“My name is Glen. One of the hunters who went into hiding after Oklahoma.” He sounded harassed. “Look, did you find Dean?”

Sam nodded, eyes on his brother. “Yeah. He’s okay now.”

“Good. Look, we need you guys. There’s things wandering the midwest. Monsters. The same kind we thought we exterminated.”

“Describe them, okay?” Sam asked, reaching into his jacket for his tiny note pad as he took the phone off speaker. He wrote down the details quickly, having to struggle to hear through the loud bar. “I’ll get back to you. Might be a new species. Stay calm.”

Dean was staring at him when he hung up. “Sam, did you - did you just ‘Bobby’ someone?” 

Sam blinked and stared at the chicken-scratch notes. “Yeah, I guess I did. Get this, something is going through the same areas we were seeing some monsters a few months ago. You know, the midwest areas. People are getting bit and…”

“Turned.” Dean’s eyes were harsh. “Eve’s infection.”

“It survived.” Benny shrugged a large shoulder. “Hate to point it out, boys, but there’s a reason monsters spread so quickly. We’re a hardy bunch.”

“Glen’s got about ten young hunters. All very new, and they need our help to start tracking these things down before they start infecting more people, because, Dean,” Sam stopped. “I don’t have to tell you what this is looking like.”

They both thought past to Lucifer’s grand plan and Sam swallowed hard, noticing Dean’s stoic look.

“We need to get to the bunker. Tell them that’s where we’re based.”

“We’re opening the bunker up?” Sam asked, aware of Kevin and Benny both listening. Dean looked at his empty bottle and sighed.

“I don’t know.” Reluctantly, he looked at Sam, holding his gaze for a long time before he nodded. “Send them the address. Maybe it is time.”

—-

Meg heard the change in the weather before she even opened her eyes. Exhausted to the core, the patter of rain on the skylight had lulled her to sleep and the warm body she was lying on had helped. Then the roaring winds stopped, the rain had turned to a mist, and she felt the hand tracking up and down her spine was still continuing with its caress.

It felt good enough that she merely pressed her head against his chest and closed her eyes again. “Feelin’ okay there, Clarence?” she asked.

“Everything has healed,” he agreed. He paused to circle the scar on her back. “You?”

“Well.” She lifted up a little to stare at him, narrow chin pressing into his chest. Castiel eyed her. “Bit better.”

The hand on her back turned over and she felt him tug on the ends of her hair. “What do you want to do?”

The demon knew he wasn’t referring to more playful sex.

“It’s early,” Meg said, rolling off of him. She shakily moved to her feet, still trying to hide the long wound gauzed heavily on her calf. His hand captured hers and he pulled her down roughly, tossing her onto her back without a word. After pulling off the gauze, his hand slid down her calf muscle and brought with it a warm sensation.

“It won’t hurt you to let me take care of you.”

“De…” Her breath hitched as his mouth slid over her knee. “…mon.”

“I know, I know.” The skin was healing fast now, the tongue on her leg tracing the new pink flesh, and his eyes darted up to her face. “Doesn’t matter.”

When he rested his chin on her stomach, Meg saw how tired he was. Something she should have seen before if she hadn’t been so caught up in touching him again. 

“What’s up, tall, dark and broody?” she drawled, dragging her nails over his scalp. His eyes closed but he didn’t answer. He breathed out and pushed his face against her stomach, the hands on her thighs still moving up and down in absent-minded caress.

“I left your journal in the dresser,” she blurted out, not sure why she said that. He didn’t say anything. “I just… knew you’d regret leaving it behind. You might need it.”

“I don’t need it. It served its purpose.” Castiel’s breath felt hot on her belly and she glanced down to see him feigning sleep.

“Nyx might.” Meg crooked her head to the side. “Something’s wrong. You’re thinking, I can tell.”

He only touched her and didn’t answer her right away. She nearly thought he was sleeping until Castiel pulled away to say, “Azazel’s words about you.”

“What about them?” she asked and he pulled himself up to sit across her as she sat up against the headboard. 

“With him stuck in the Lethe, you will never know why he chose you.”

“I never wanted to know why, not really.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder and stared at him as he moved beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “You never know why some things happen, Clarence.” Meg shrugged and felt his lips against her temple. “When you’re born without a family, you assume you’re just scum that no one would want. You assume you do what you have to do to survive”

Castiel stroked the back of her head but said nothing. There was nothing to betray his thoughts but he was struggling to figure it out for himself. What if there had been something special about her, something that was lost because she had been destroyed in Hell first? Whatever she was, whether it was just a human, a child with ability like Sam or a child of an angel, she had been ripped apart until her past meant nothing. Meg knew nothing because she had given up those memories during her time in Hell. She had raised herself to be a human and had believed she was a demon to the core of her.

Belief was a powerful thing.

“What’s past is past,” Meg said as she leaned into him. “It doesn’t change much, Clarence. I still spent thousands of years in Hell, I still became what I wanted to be at the time. You believe a lie long enough, it becomes you.”

Castiel felt her fingers tracing the new scars on his chest. “And now?”

“I don’t want to remember.” She frowned. “Does it matter?”

Castiel decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “No.”

His hand pulled her over into his arms and she chuckled as he turned her over beneath him, her arms going around his back to hold him against her.

—

_Two weeks later…_

Castiel knew that the Winchesters wanted back home and Benny was as openly ready to leave as well. He wanted to be sure his great-granddaughter was safe. They had promised Nyx they’d get her a late birthday gift when she came to the bunker again, but then it had been another week before the need to do something finally overcame their exhaustion.  The brothers were packing up to go when Castiel realized that it was time and he set about helping them get ready. 

Dean licked his dry lips and sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t minded the mini-vacation; his heart felt good, the nightmares were slowly starting to leave and Sam seemed to be better as well. Everything seemed to have fallen back into place. A loud giggle made him turn after closing the Impala trunk to see Nyx and Castiel on the front porch. With her arms around Castiel’s neck, Nyx was grappled neatly to him and refusing to let go. Castiel walked around, seeming to be oblivious to what she was doing as she chattered in his ear. The peace of the safe-house felt so strange to Dean after the terror of the past weeks and the sight of them made him smile.

With nothing else to do until Sam woke up, Dean joined them on the front porch. Nyx had crawled into Castiel’s lap and was asking about the stars again. Castiel answered her with a few constellations but his eyes were on Dean instead.

“Did you know she saw the angels?” Castiel asked when his friend sat down beside him.

“Yeah. Anna… and the others, they stayed close to me. I knew for a while.”

Castiel grunted as Nyx shifted around in his lap and scrambled off to go into the front yard. Dean watched her play in the thin layer of snow for a while before he looked up. Castiel lifted his own gaze to stare at the stars as well.

“You know the phone calls I’ve been getting, Cas.”

“Eve’s infection is spreading. We did what we could to stop it but maybe it wasn’t enough.” Castiel watched Nyx try to make a snowman in the small amount of snow left. “So we continue to do what we must.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, that’s right.”

There was something off in his voice that made Castiel look over at him, eyes searching his profile curiously.

“We ready?” Sam asked as he and Kevin came out, Benny just behind them. Dusting off his hands, Castiel called to Nyx and Dean was startled how she bypassed Castiel to hug him instead. He lifted her up, pressing his face into her small shoulder.

“Love you,” she whispered. “Best friends.”

“Best friends,” he agreed, not sure why he felt so hollow at first at the thought of doing this. The longer he held her, the more he realized he was starting to feel better and he knew she was trying to heal him. He’d miss her not being around in his shadow and Dean hugged her until she finally pulled back 

“Miss you,” Nyx said very seriously, looking into his eyes before she turned to Sam. “Love you.”

Sam looked startled as she repeated the words to him, but he hugged her as tightly as Dean had. Then she moved on to Kevin and this time didn’t say anything but his name. Benny looked sheepish when she at last hugged him but he affectionately put his cap on her head and tweaked her cheek.

“Looks better on you anyway, sprite.”

“Nyx.” Castiel crouched next to her when Benny put her down, and he lifted Benny’s cap just a little so he could look into her eyes. “Stay with your mother. No matter what.”

The words caught Dean’s attention and he looked at Sam. He was staring hard at Castiel as well.

But Nyx only smiled, giggling when the hat slid down over her eyes. “Okay.”

Then she was gone into the house and in the next moment, Castiel flew them away from Colorado.

–

The bar in Louisiana was loud and jumping, the locals celebrating some birthday judging by the banners overhead. The minute Dean stepped into the bar with Benny and Sam, he saw Elizabeth and put on a winning smile that Benny almost growled at when he noticed. But when she bypassed him to giddily say hello and press a kiss to Sam’s cheek, Dean turned to pouting.

“Famous Winchester charm, eh?” Benny asked, nudging him as Sam smiled at Elizabeth and exchanged a few words. Whatever he said worked as she slipped a piece of paper into his hand.

“Why aren’t you upset about her kissing Sam?” Dean snapped, narrowly avoiding having his ass grabbed by a female biker. 

“Well, because Sam’s Sam and you… well, you, Dean, are big trouble for a girl like her,” Benny said affectionately. “You need someone to make trouble for you for a change.”

Dean shrugged. “I guess.

Castiel watched the people around them, half-afraid it was a trap. Everyone seemed friendly, too friendly, and it made him nervous. But he could smell the alcohol reeking off all of them and he was jokingly grabbed and hugged just as much as they all were, the party too caught up to notice they didn’t quite belong. It was almost impossible to talk until Benny calmed Elizabeth down enough to take her to the back room to explain he wanted to stay.

When he came out beaming, it was obvious that she’d been happy to have him around.

“She’ll keep me honest,” he said. “I know it.”

“See that she does,” Castiel threatened and the vampire eye-rolled.

“Come on, angel. You know I’m on your team.” He leaned in. “What’s Meg’s number anyway?”

Dean jostled him to shut up and his friend chuckled, looking at him. “Benny, man, you came through for me, like I knew you would.”

“I won’t lie, it was dodgy.” The vampire smiled fondly. “Worth it though. I know how to survive out here now, what I’m meant to do. Despite the hungers and everything.”

“I know. Thanks still,” Dean said, voice gentle with his sincerity. The two men hugged quickly, even Sam joining in as he thanked Benny. Kevin fidgeted a little and then his head turned around.

“I’d like to stay here,” he blurted out loud.

“What?” Both men looked at him.

“I need a break, away from everything. Maybe this is a good place. If Benny will have me here,” he said, head turning in his direction. Benny blinked, startled by the prophet’s offer.

“Yeah. I mean… sure.” He shrugged. “Could always use a helping hand.”

“Just for a few weeks,” Kevin said. “It will give me some time and I have some money saved up. So I can decide what to do, now that I’m not getting visions.”

“No rush. Any family of Dean’s is family of mine,” Benny said. Kevin dodged the Winchester’s hugs blindly and turned his head in Castiel’s direction.

“Take care of Nyx, Cas. She’s special,” he said before he turned away from them all. Dean tried not to seem hurt by it but they all understood. What had happened to the prophet had made him almost beyond saving and it really had only been Nyx at this point he had felt was worth holding onto. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, and Dean shook his head a little; let Kevin rest and try to find something he was still searching for.

Benny gave Dean one last handshake before they left the bar and stepped outside. Dean sucked in a lungful of air and sighed, and he felt Castiel’s hand on his shoulder. The angel looked at him, and then Sam.

“Are you ready?”

“As ever,” Sam said and Dean nodded as well. Fingers tight on their arms, Castiel winged them off to Kansas next and when they landed before the hatch door, he stepped back to let them go in first. First Dean went to hug his car gratefully, muttering about the mud on her body and the dirty wheels. Sam only rolled his eyes and opened the door. Castiel gestured for Dean to proceed him and as they went in the overpowering smell of sulphur, algae and blood was so strong Sam had to hold his hand over his nose.

“It’s going to take a cleaning crew to get this done,” he muttered as they stumbled over the toppled shelves and slippery floors to get to the heart of the bunker. The main library section was all but destroyed. Books were strewn across the floor, some so damaged they’d be unsalvageable, weapons were scattered and the archives themselves seemed ready to collapse at just a touch and saw the damages.

“Our home, Sam.” Dean shook his head. “We’ll get it fixed.”

Sam went to prop up a shelf and it teetered for a second before crashing to the ground. Kicking it to the side, he looked in disgust at the ground. “What happened to the bodies?”

“The angels would have taken them to burn,” Castiel explained. 

“How’d the Eve thing go, getting her back into Purgatory?” Dean asked as he picked up one of his broken katanas. The angel’s silence drew his attention and he quickly glanced over. “Cas?”

“They haven’t said much to me. The Garrison lost good soldiers doing it. But she is back there and the rear door to Hell has been warded against her and against demons. They’ll be kept apart.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam said as he picked up a book and checked its soaked pages. “This is going to take a lot of work.”

Castiel looked around. “How long until the first hunters arrive?”

“Not long.” Sam ran his thumb over the book spine. “They seemed pretty desperate.”

“Good. Then I have time to talk to Meg, to explain…”

Dean had his back to him and the sound of him re-sheathing another sword was loud. The leather scabbard made a hissing sound as the metal slid over it. “Explain what, exactly?”

“That we’re going to hunt the monsters.” Castiel looked around. “Without the angels, it will be difficult but I can…”

“Hunt. Right,” Dean said. There was a loud clatter as he fixed an overturned chair next. “Sam and I will but not you, Cas.”

The angel stiffened. “I am not about to let you both go without me. You’ll need my help.”

“You don’t get it. These are monsters. We were raised to hunt them and we are good at that. There’s going to be hunters needing leadership and maybe this is the time to change things.” Dean looked at Sam who nodded his agreement. “You’re our friend, you’re like family to us. But we can do this. We have to, because if we don’t, then we’ll just die doing the same thing we always do. This way we can raise the next hunters to learn from our mistakes, so the same mistakes aren’t repeated.”

“So everyone can be safe, if we can help them,” Sam said. “The demons are without any leader, the angels want nothing to do with us. The infected Eve left behind, they will never stop.”

Castiel looked at them both. “You’re sending me away.”

“We’re letting you go, Cas,” Sam said. “You helped take care of us. Rough times or not, you were always trying to help us. And it destroyed your life. As much as doing this job has destroyed ours.”

“Not all of it was terrible.”

“Yeah, we know.” Dean stared at him and finally reached out to put his hand on his shoulder. “Cas. You lost three years. Take it back. We’re giving you that, if you can make it last.”

Castiel stared at him. “We were friends.”

“We still are.” 

“I thought friendship meant helping protect you both.

Sam smiled. “It’s just time, Cas. Once upon a time, you were going to return to Heaven, remember? And you still came back to help us. But right now, something needs your protection more than us and we finally see that. The hunters won’t understand you anymore than they will us not hunting Nyx or Meg. They don’t know how things change.”

“We might never get that chance, Cas. Take it. As screwed up as it is, you and Meg, Nyx… maybe it is there for a reason,” Dean finished.

Castiel’s blue eyes were sad. “I see.” He looked away and around the bunker, remembering when it had once been his home. “You want me to protect her.”

“You’ll be doing us a favour, Cas. Because you being there will keep Meg from killing hunters who go sniffing around,” Sam joked though he couldn’t find the humour in this.

“If I do this,” Castiel said and he looked at them both with now glittering eyes. “I… won’t return at first prayer. You will truly be without any Heavenly help.”

“I know.” Dean eyed Sam. “No offence but we’ve lived like that before, Cas. Maybe we need to go back to how things were, for a while.” Reaching out, he affectionately clamped his hand on Castiel’s neck. “That little girl? We want to see her grow up. See what good she can do.”

Castiel nodded, eyes locked on his. “I’ll do my best.”

“We know you will,” Sam said and then pulled him in for a hug. Castiel froze, not expecting that and Sam sighed. “I know I’m not Meg but you know what to do.”

Tentatively, Castiel hugged him back until Sam gave him a hard pat on the back and let him go. They both looked expectantly at Dean, who grumbled about touchy feel-y moments. 

“You even picture I’m Meg for a second, and I’ll kill you,” he said but he was smiling as he went in for a hug. Castiel held him back, aware of Dean’s tension.

When he leaned back out of it, both brothers looked sheepish. “You will be careful?” he asked.

“Scout’s honour,” Dean said with a smile before he turned away to look around at the mess. “But I mean, before you go, you can help us clean…”

When he turned again, it was only Sam. Dean was aware of a faint sadness suddenly, that his friend had left so abruptly. Sam looked at him, equally as affected.

“Yeah well, you know him,” Dean said, coughing to hide the break in his voice. “He hates goodbyes.”

Sam nodded and noticed the chair. Castiel had left his cellphone on-top of a black book and he flipped it open, puzzled.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“His journal, the one I had him try. Lots of notes on Heaven, Hell, spells, everything. Enochian translations. Basically anything that crossed his mind over those three years.” Sam slapped it on his hand and smiled at Dean. “I’m going to add it to our archive.”

Dean nodded. “Do that. Cas would like it.”

Neither brother wanted to talk about having lost their best friend and Sam slunk away to see what damage had been done to his security system. Once he was out of sight, Dean closed his eyes and prayed,

“You better take full advantage of this, Cas. We wanted you to stay but… well… maybe it was time.”

He half-expected Castiel to show up again, as he always did with prayers, but the bunker remained empty when he opened his eyes.

“All right then,” Dean whispered and he sighed as Sam came back into the room. “Good luck, Cas.”

“I’ll miss him too,” Sam admitted as he went to hand Dean a broom. His brother took it and then pulled him in for a hug. He was startled then by how tight Dean hugged him, as if he had expected him to be gone as well. But he didn’t say a word to tease his brother about it. 

“Are we interrupting something?” a woman asked and they both turned to see a group of people coming through the aisles. All were were carrying heavy duffel bags and were of all ages. Both brothers knew these were the hunters they’d been waiting for. 

“Dean, Sam.” A heavy-set man came from beside the first woman and held out his hand. “I’m Glen. The guy at that called you. This is the first group I could get together to come here. All hunters, all seen what we’re up against but we need your help.”

As Sam shook Glen’s hand, Dean stared at the hunters and nodded in silent approval.   _Okay_ , he thought to himself,  _you can do this. You have to do this._ When he glanced at Sam, he knew his brother was with him on this. He cleared his throat and grinned.

“Welcome to base camp, ladies and gentlemen.”

–

Castiel didn’t return to Heaven. At first angels had watched him wander but they quickly lost interest. He knew they would; he was to them now just a fallen brother. To be pitied and mourned. Whatever happened in Heaven, he knew he wasn’t to return. He could feel a small throb in his Grace, an urge to go to Heaven to see what had happened. But with the Angel Radio gone quiet, as if no angel needed to communicate with him, he wandered a little, using time as his ally this time to travel the distances he wanted to cover. 

The knowledge of what he had to do, what he had the choice of doing, was something he needed to think about.  

When it became clear that there were few angels left on Earth and even fewer demons wandering unchecked, Castiel was truly left with nothing to do but think about his own choices. When everything was said and done, he knew, it would come down to his choice. This time there were no gods using him, no human friends who needed his help, and no agents of Heaven to hold him. He was truly free and for the first time he realized how intoxicating that was. No wonder Meg had fought so hard for it.

After two days of being on his own, he found let himself rest on a secluded beach and sat on the stones and sand, watching the edge of slowly lapping waves just nibbling at his feet. He’d stuffed his old tan coat in his rucksack to cover the three heavy tablets he’d stolen from the bunker, tablets that Michael had left behind. With  the bag safely at his side, he had loosened his tie and collar and kicked his shoes off before he sat to watch the water. 

For a long time, that was all he did: sit on the beach with his toes digging into the sand, feeling the grit on his bare skin. But for as still as he was, he was already thinking about what he had to do next.

The safe-house had been empty when he had gone to it and he knew it would be. Knew Meg was doing what she thought was needed. Like he was. Castiel reached out, checked the tablets again, and then looked back out at the water. 

Letting go would be so hard.

The wind ruffled his hair up and he closed his eyes, enjoying it. He leaned his head back and felt the warmth of the sun, absorbed it almost hungrily. Eventually, he had to smile as he felt it go through all of his forms, both true and vessel, because that warmth was not just from the sun.

“Thank you,” he whispered as the breeze caressed him. “I think I understand now.”

He heard the choking sound of cars passing on the distant road but thought nothing of it. He could enjoy this for a fraction of time as the weight of Dean and Sam’s decision forced him to look at the world differently. He knew Meg would keep Nyx safe but he just needed a moment, perhaps to mourn a little a life he had come to know.

He had never been here before, at the brink of something so altering to what he had been for over seven years, and yet he was so at peace. He’d made a choice, perhaps before the Winchesters had.

Finally, a choice purely for himself and what he needed to do.

Suddenly, Castiel was hit full force from behind and he opened his eyes as small arms looped around his neck.

“Found you!” Nyx’s voice was sweet and excited in his ear, her familiar scent and touch making him smile as she held him playfully. “I found you, Daddy.”

“You did.” He lay back on his elbows a bit and Nyx crawled onto him. “That’s my girl.”

She nodded. “Mommy said I had to find you, said we could visit the beach. Just like she said,” Nyx chattered. “She said you said it was okay.”

“I did. It’s why I wasn’t worried,” he said with a smile, and Nyx began to tell him all about the long drive here as she turned around in his lap. As she chattered, she began to draw happy faces in the sand and stick figures, and Castiel touched her hair gently. It was very early in the morning still but her energy seemed boundless and re-energized him. But the nip of air was cold and Castiel let her nestle down in his lap to keep warm. When she shivered, he removed his suit jacket and draped it over her. 

“Better?” he asked and she nodded as she slipped her hands into the sleeves. Despite the cold, she happily kicked her shoes off and wriggled her bare toes into the sand.

“This is a beach,” he said. “What do you think?”

“Pretty.” She looked up at him, eyes trusting him to stay right there. “Want to play.”

“You can. Just not too far,” Castiel said, watching the way she pointed at the waves. Her delighted giggle made him smile, and when he touched her hair again she moved between his legs to take his face in her hands. . 

“Love you,” Nyx whispered before she kissed him between the eyes and then laughed at his expression. Castiel let the words, such words that an angel would have never once expected to hear, soothe him. 

“I love you too, Nyx.”

She nodded once more before looking over his shoulder. “Told you he loved us, ‘member?”

“No one likes a bad winner, Nyxie.”

Meg’s voice behind him made Castiel smile in relief and he saw Nyx smiling at her mother. 

“Go play. We’ll be right here.”

She laughed again and ran off, the bottom of the black jacket dragging on the sand as she went towards the waves. Even though he tried to focus on her, it was almost impossible when Castiel felt Meg so close behind him. He didn’t look up, not even when her fingers carded through his mussed hair.

“Ever miss the apocalypse, Clarence?” she asked, the words husky and achingly familiar.

“No.” Reaching up, he touched her hand and pulled her down beside him. “Do you?”

“Not sure anymore. I don’t think I do.”

He still watched Nyx. “What took you so long?”

“You know Nyx, Castiel,” Meg said. She pulled her boots off and put her feet beside his. “Always an adventure.”

When he finally looked at her, Castiel let himself linger on the sight of her thorns and darkness. She seemed less restless than before; still volatile, he knew, and the sharp edges were still there. Still his demon, he thought with a grin and then looked away before she could see it.  

“I missed you,” he said bluntly.

She fluttered a hand in the air. “Missed the devil on your shoulder, huh?”

“Something like that.” He noticed her staring at him but kept his eyes on the beach. Nyx was running towards some seagulls who werere flying away from her, but she wasn’t too far away. 

“Love’s a funny thing,” Meg whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Just funny, you know?” she asked. “Maybe it was meant to happen, maybe it wasn’t.”

He nodded, his sandy fingers reaching out to lay over hers. He noticed that her skin, finally, felt warm.

“Still was unexpected,” she finished when he didn’t say anything.

“By now, I thought you’d know not to guess about things like this,” Castiel said, blue eyes sparkling.

Meg snorted. “Not an omniscient god, Clarence. I just play one sometimes.” She tapped her temple. “Or have one in my head.”

He finally chuckled at that, and they both watched Nyx as she lifted her hands and the waves pushed back a little lower so she could dip her toes into them without getting soaked. His jacket was ruined, Castiel knew, and he couldn’t care less.

“So.” Meg’s voice snapped him out of it and he looked over at her. “What do we do now?”

“Protect her.” He let his eyes roam over her profile. “Among other things.”

“Other things?” she asked coyly and he smiled. The flirtatious grin slowly fell to a frown. “Castiel, things don’t… they don’t stay quiet forever. Especially when it comes to us.”

“We have time. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Meg finally turned his head. “Telling me to stay, huh?”

“Asking you.” He let her fingers go as if to give her a physical choice. “Asking you. Neither of us can do this alone.”

She sighed and scooted closer to him for warmth. “I know. I just bet if I did run that…”

“I’d follow you.” He smiled to himself. “Seems we follow each other regardless of what happens.”

“We do. What happened with the Winchesters?”

“They did what I thought they would do. It didn’t make it hurt any less. The hunters will gather there, they’ll train them. They’ll hunt. It is what they were destined to do.” Castiel felt her fingers slip through his again, comforting him. “It wasn’t easy.”

“I’m sorry. I mean we weren’t crazy about each other, the boys and I but…” She shrugged. “I think I get it.”

When he turned his head, she pressed a kiss against his mouth and he sighed, taking the comfort he could from her. Meg pulled back and shuddered again, head turning to look away at Nyx. 

“So. You, me, and the little Abomination against the world, huh?” She sighed as he cupped the back of her head and she looked at him. Something in his eyes made her say smugly, “You are so lucky that I love…”

Before she could finish, he kissed her again. Still the same spark, he marvelled as she kissed him back. Despite everything, he still felt that pull between them that had held him here all this time.

“I am,” he muttered after he broke the kiss. “Do I need to say it in return?”

She grinned. “I’ll let you off the hook, Clarence. I already know.”

“Good.”

Meg looked back out and let his hand grip tighter around hers. She debated on saying something more but stopped herself. They both fell to silence, and they looked simply like two humans watching their daughter play in the waves. Under the surface though, his Grace wrapped around the darkness she held. It pulled at the smokey power as her darkness turned and hissed within the shade of his Grace, settling down within one another as if content.

      All the angels and demons, the hunters and monsters, the gods with all of their plans, hadn’t been enough to stop this from happening.

    _It always had been about choice, hadn’t it?_  
  
     Just one choice had changed everything.   
  
  


**~~The End~~**


End file.
